


A Mate Can Dream

by PervDia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Cock Worship, Comeplay, Exhibitionism, Frottage, M/M, Mates, Oral Sex, Public Claiming, Rimming, Ritual Sex, Scent Marking, Slight D/s themes discussed, Voyeurism, attempted watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PervDia/pseuds/PervDia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens Stiles didn't think much of it, just another late, lonely, hormonally charged weekend night with too much pineapple jalepeno pizza. What else would have made him dream of an emotionally stunted wolf instead of his one true love, the perfection that walks and talks in strawberry blonde beauty.</p>
<p>More to the point, the epically pornographic(and kinky as fuck) details of the now multiple dreams stayed with him long after he changed his sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_The werewolf isn't talking. He's growling low, deep in his chest, so deep it might be from the pit of his stomach. Do wolves growl from their stomachs? Is there a special tummy growl-box? Stiles can feel the rumble against his thighs as Derek's abs move up his body. If it isn't so fearsome, Stiles would assume it's a large cat purring, but there's an edge of threat to it, like if Stiles dares to move, parts of his virginally young nubile body would be forfeit. And what the hell is wrong with him that his brain thinks that makes this hotter?  Should he say something about this whole situation since Derek's communicating via growl-box?_

_Red eyes flash above pointed teeth, a long wet tongue flicking out to taste the exposed part of his own skin, what the hell is he asking questions for? "_ Go with it." _, some lust driven part of his brain supplies and Stiles is not one to argue with his lust brain. No Sir._

_He gives into the sensation of being wanted, since that's what those bright red eyes say between possessive licks to his skin. Warm breath tickles the damp flesh after every pass._ _The tiny moans Stiles barely keens out don't sound familiar. They're desperate in a way he never imagined himself as being. He wants more but for the life of him he can't put a name to what it is he wants. He's already being touched, a mouth laving just below his right nipple. The cock that Stiles spent so many nights alone with, now being rubbed by Derek's chest. It presses down at every intake of air to the wolf's lungs, shifting the skin contact just enough. Bare skin on skin, the tip of his cock pushing tiny trails of clear wetness between Derek's perfect pectorals; Stiles arches his back into it._

_Derek begins to hump his right upper thigh. Both of the alpha's legs are nearly wrapped around Stiles'. The low almost constant growl turns to short satisfied grunts, like Derek is finally doing what he's wanted to do for so long. The thought of someone this intensely arrrroused by Stiles has the teen fighting to meet each thrust._  

 

_________

 

Stiles woke up panting, sweating, and covered in come. "Fuck." He still wore his favorite batman sleep pants, but the waist band was not as he left it last night. It stretched low on his hips. The light sheet he used to cover himself, scrunched into a ball off to the side. 

 

"Huh." 

 

Nocturnal emissions weren't new to Stiles, but they had been far less frequent since his patented regimen of at least two masturbations a day, three if one session did not involve his fave toy up his ass.

 

Considering he had successfully got off to "Bumpin' Donuts" A classic film featuring the lesbian mystique yesterday morning,  and before bed queued his fav clip from "American Bi" while fucking himself with his "Booty Bandit". This should not have happened! More importantly, what the fuck was Derek doing in his dream? Sex dream co-star of choice had always been Lydia. 

 

Stiles never counted the fantasies involving being bent over by Viggo Mortensen. That was his Aragorn phase, and Lydia would forgive him those slight mental transgressions in devotion. 

 

And now that Stiles thought about it. Derek did have the whole unshaved swarthy doomed hero thing going on. That was probably it. Yes. Of course that was it. 

 

With the sexual crisis diverted, Stiles got up from his bed and made his way to the shower.

 

_________

 

_More. Damn it he needs more. Derek behind him licking him out, sniffing his ass with every swipe of tongue, snuffling deep with his face buried so far up inside that Stiles already shuddered his climax twice and is desperately looking for a third time. Desperation. It's a recurring theme with Derek and that obscene mouth of his. Not that Stiles can see it, but he can feel it. The top lip presses firm to Stiles' hole while a rogue tongue fucks it's way deeper and deeper. Noises of animals on nature shows when feasting at a long fought for meal come to mind._

_Stiles whimpers._ _He whimpers right into the pillow. His arms are pinned behind his back by some invisible force. On his knees, with his ass high in the air inviting the wolf to keep on getting his fill. Oh hell. Every suckling motion makes him shake with need. More. Damn it. He ass cheeks spread so far apart. He knows he blushed when it started, but somehow he can't seem to find the bashful shame in all the ways he wants his ass to be violated by Derek's lips and tongue._

__________

 

Waking up face down with a pool of come below him, his spidey pj's low almost to his knees, Stiles groaned. Two nights in a row was not a good sign. Stiles could write off the Derek sex dream as a throw back to his bi-sexual awakening when he was 11 and totally having LOTR Strider issues, if it was just the one time, but that not what this felt like. It was all too vivid in his mind to be something normal. Which also had him worried. Werewolves/magic/bullshit it had to be considered as a thing especially where dreams were concerned.

 

Lydia may not have returned his feelings, but they were friends now and if anyone might be able to describe what it felt like to have a wolf messing with the mental goods, it would be her.

 

Not that he thought Derek violated his mind, but maybe another werewolf planted suggestions or something, trying to make Stiles a pod person that would jump the Alpha and get his throat torn out for the trouble. That made sense. Yeah. Derek would be considered dangerous if Stiles was attacked and the hunters or a rival pack would have an excuse. 

 

Although really? Stiles wasn't important enough for such an elaborate plan. 

 

One more night. Three was a pattern. If it happened again. He would call Derek and Lydia, maybe the whole pack. The pack meeting for weird Alpha sex dreams could take place tomorrow.

 

___________

 

_Derek's legs pin down Stiles' arms at the elbows. The Alpha's balls rest at the top of Stiles' chest. The small dip where the neck meets up with the rest of the body cradles them like it was made to hold the damn things. Stilinski Alpha Ball Holder.™ They're warm and full, Stiles is momentarily jealous that he doesn't have them in his mouth, our maybe just rubbing his face all over them. It's only a moment though because Derek's uncut cock slides back and forth over Stiles' bottom lip, moving every so often to his chin. It's leaves behind lines of liquid drawn as if from a thick watercolor brush with only the faintest dribbles of clear stain. Stiles absentmindedly wonders what's being written over his face or if there is no pattern at all and Derek is simply coloring in everything inch of him with the tip of his cock._

_Randomly, Stiles licks his lips chasing after it. He strokes the heated tip by chance and then with purpose, because Derek stills his movement._

_The taste is salted, sweaty, a little tart, but unique. He's tasted himself before. He experimented years ago when he was curious and alone, but this is amazing. It's full of something more than musky skin, something greedy lives there. Something that wants Stiles' mouth for it's own and made itself known by taste. Stiles wraps his lips around the head pushing back the foreskin as much as he could with the angle he's held down. Derek for his part simply flashes a toothy smile with glowing red eyes, not moving forward to help fill Stiles mouth, nor pulling away to tease him further._

_It's frustration. Stiles realizes he wants Derek to fuck his face hard, to come down his throat with everything he can. Instead he's nursing of the tip of Derek's cock, drinking every small drop he can get. There's a thick vein he sees tensing along the shaft. The need to lick and mouth his way along it overwhelms him enough to produce a tight whine from the back of his throat._

_Derek growls back in response finally shifting his damnable hips forward and back barely satisfying them both. Stiles wants it harder, faster, come dripping from his lips repainting all the spots that got messed up from him licking off Derek's earlier work. He whines again trying to bob his head to meet the length of cock being shoved too damn delicately into his mouth._

_Milking Derek's cock should not be a top priority, but Stiles own hard on enjoys this even though nothing is touching it. Exposed and straining to reach out for relief, the tight hot skin encasing him waits it's turn. Or rather bides it's time, because Stiles some how knows that as soon as this is done, Derek will suck his dick raw._

_A shiver goes through him and Derek picks up the pace. More thrusting motions come into play and Stiles' jaw begins to ache from the stretch. Derek grunts again like he did when he humped Stiles' thigh. It's harsh erratic animal noises that cause Stiles to make breathy similar sounds back._

_Derek's stomach clenches along with the rest of his body as his cock swells to pulse out shot after shot of come. Stile swallows around what's in his mouth and sucks harder to get more. It works for 6 more hard thirsty pulls and then Derek takes it away, like that perfect christmas toy stolen from a good boy that had every right to play for as long as he wanted._

_Stiles has his mouth open, begging for it back, begging for his thirst to be sated. Derek holds his cock to Stiles' bottom lip…_

___________

 

Stiles sat straight up in bed. His cock was as expected, out, proud, and ready to show the world who's boss, but his mind had just ventured to the land of watersports. ESPN really didn't cover that kind of thing, so Stiles always figured it wasn't a team he should try out for.  And yet here he was, about two pulls from coming at the idea of having Derek piss in his mouth. 

 

Dear god. Time for a pack meeting. (and maybe a sedative).  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom) & [necoleisidarmalfoy](http://necoleisidarmalfoy.tumblr.com) for the fast beta!

 

The whole floor was technically Derek's territory since no other tenants lived in the building. The pass coded freight elevator made possible a gapping hole in the brick of the south wall. Most of the pack used it to wander into Derek's domain, a "Doggie Door" that Stiles usually couldn't help but comment on every chance he got. He often got tossed out of for his perfect whit.

The human door became a formality that most ignored, but Stiles wasn't paying attention really. His mind ran over all the possible things that could be causing his sleep brain to think of Derek doing the nasty, and so he walked up to the door-door of Derek's apartment. Luckliy werewolves made such actions like knocking pointless. Isaac opened it before Stiles even raised his hand. The curly haired wolf stared at Stiles strange for not walking in like everyone else, and the brief exchange brought Stiles out of his sexual fog enough to shrug at his choice of entrance. It didn't matter.

The wolf sniffed him like all wolves tended to. It was another behavior Stiles accepted as routine, but today especially it wouldn't hurt to have a werewolf nasal diagnostic run over the old Stilinski chassis. As he stepped closer, Isaac didn't say Stiles smelled different. No concerned looks either. That almost eliminated Stiles' ideas about being poisoned or magically spelled in some way, both of which the pack easily picked up on after more recent coven attacks.

"What's this about Stiles. I had to move my date back an hour for this."

"Awww, little Wolfie's growing up." Stiles ruffled his hair as he passed. Isaac deserved teasing for taking so damn long to date someone he wanted for almost a year. "Danny can wait. This might be new or old trouble. Depends on what everyone else says."

Isaac removed Stiles' hand, holding it firming in his grasp. "I could easily remove Mr. Palm, your only known date Stiles."

Threats as usual were playful now, and Stiles' took it as such. "You're the one holding the fingers I use to…"

Before he could finish Isaac let go like Stiles' hand burned him. Stiles smiled devilishly at him and tried to ruffle his hair again with the aforementioned exploratory hand, but the wolf ran to the other side of the room.

Peter smirked at the exchange while Derek ignored it making bowls of snacks ready. Stiles liked the idea of not looking directly at the Alpha right now. He didn't want to relive the Technicolor stream of sex dreams until he had to and something in him said looking at Derek would definitely bring it back more violently than before. 

10 minutes later, after everyone gathered at Derek's fancy new were-cave-esque loft, Stiles started off with the obvious question. "Is anyone else having vivid dreams over the last week or so?" 

No one said anything for a beat. A few confused faces, Scott's mostly looked worried. Dreams so far in their pack had not been a good thing. Between Peter and that damn coven, that one sentence put most of the pack on edge.

Erica broke the silence, "Having hot sex dreams Stiles?"

"Yes. Are you?" Stiles pressed his response, not sure if she was making fun of him or actually having the same problem. Being the comedy relief wasn't anything new. It didn't hurt anymore. In fact he embraced it like a shield more often than not. Right now though wasn't the time for showing off his emotional defense mechanisms, instead he needed to focus on his lack of shame when it came to certain aspects of his monogamous self lovin' time. Pack that travelled naked in the woods once a month or not, Stiles had to be the example here. Others might not have been ready to air their kinkiest thoughts.

Jackson scoffed and moved to leave. Lydia held him in place with a touch of her hand. 

Taking a deeper breath, Stiles started to explain, "I'm having dreams about sex, not just any kind of sex. But the kind of masturbatory fantasies that could get me killed if I was to approach the person involved, or could do damage to the pack. They're also different from any other dream I've ever had. It's like going from my vintage scratchy VHS of Buckaroo Bonsai," a beloved item, "to the Blue Ray of Iron Man 4."

"That’s not even out yet." Scott said with realization rather than confusion.

"Exactly!" Stiles shouted back, because Scott understood Stiles-isms as only a bro could.

"You think it is precognitive then?" Boyd asked.

And all the excitement Stiles had about having Scott "get him" vanished in a swirl of yet another possibility. So far he had assumed it was an attack of some kind, but what if it was a fortunetelling thing? Most of the books Deaton gave him said dreams were the easiest windows to the future or the past. 

No. It had to be an attack. Derek didn't want him like that, and Stiles had no sexy-time plans concerning the Alpha. Sure with an ass that could be the inspiration for world peace, and a face worthy of instigating riots, Stiles drooled a little. Hell, he bared witness to people of every age and sex stopping to stare in awe of Derek's posterior. Fights generally broke out after they saw his face.  The Jungle or Super K were not safe places to take the Alpha. They just weren't. Maybe if he had some mace and a mace, pepper spray and medieval, perhaps then he could go out with Derek. Not that he thought of going out with Derek, at least not like that.

"Who?" Lydia asked while looking at the Alpha. Stiles managed to avoid Tall-Dark-And-Broody since walking in, but thanks to Boyd's little possibility of precog, he chanced a curious peek in that direction.

"Who is it Stiles?" Derek asked while having an epic side conversation (via eyebrows) with his uncle Peter. 

"Before I answer that question, is anyone else having dreams?" Part of Stiles still didn't think he was important enough to use this way. Someone higher up on the food chain had to be getting effected too. 

No one raised their hands old school style, or even grunted a la pack communications 101. "Really?"

"Maybe whosever doing it realizes you're the only sad sack here that can't get laid." Jackson said with an immediate harsh elbow to the ribs from Lydia in retaliation.

"Stiles could get some easy enough." Lydia defended.

And Derek growled.

_________

_He growls and shifts. Stiles meets his red eyes with his own deep honey brown ones. The spark is what Deaton called it when he used small bits of his magic. It tugs some place deep inside of him like a flicker, but this feels like a current. Some supercharged voltage electrifying the air. Ozone and musk… Is this what lust smells like?_

_Derek moves forward along the current changing more, shifting from half-man to complete wolf, all his clothes shredded. Snout to tail, he's still the most imposing thing in the room. Dark brown and black coffee colored fur coat his thickened skin. Stiles doesn't understand how he knows what Derek's skin feels like before the wolf takes him off his feet and straddles him, but he's right._

_Stiles has no reason to know that his hand would feel so much better running through the thick patches of fur at Derek's chest, or combing down it's sides, but he bets he's right about that too. It's what he wants to do more than anything. He attempts to lift a finger and Derek's canine body presses down over him with a low warning grumble. The wolf doesn't want the boy to move. A tongue flicks at Stiles' ear, then down his neck. Stiles bares his throat in submission willing himself not to reach out and stoke the beast that's making him harder and hornier with every growl, because honestly Stiles wants to pet it, stroke it, tease the fur with his fingers, scritch and scratch his way down until he has his hands wrapped around the wolf's unsheathed cock. Jerk it off. Touch it. Taste it. Let it fuck him open, knot him and breed him._

_The pack is there, and they need to be. They need to see the claiming. Watch as Derek opens and violates what has always been his. They need to understand Stiles' place, his authority and importance as much as how much Stiles needs to be owned by the Alpha. Not like property that could change hands, but so much more profoundly. To his core he belonged to this wolf, to Derek._

_A low impatient whine comes from the animal, it's hind quarters lowering, pressing the hard tip of its cock against Stiles' abdomen, and Stiles truly hates clothes. They're blocking the feel of it. Instead he focuses on the strong overheated muscles pushing against him, the rapid heartbeat pounding over his chest, and the panting hot breath huffed after the thick tongue bathes what little of Stiles' skin is exposed._

_His neck and collar get nipped at along with his stomach as the muzzle rucks up the fabric of Stiles' shirt. Deep long licks above his abs, across his hardened nipples. The rough tongue works its way up, tightening his shirt around the head of the wolf, till a frustrated growl echo's and his shirt fabric tears away. His right side is completely exposed. The tongue that paused only briefly is back and licking furiously along Stiles' shoulder and down where his arm begins to rest against his body. The wolf's nose pushes to get access to the soft skin hidden at Stiles' pit. Stiles wants to help, to lift his arm over his head, but he's pinned down, and the feel of the soft fur to his chest is pure bliss to his sensitive nipples. He's moaning out his pleasure with his wolf. The tongue runs between the folds of skin lapping at Stiles' under arm like the best candied treat._

_Stiles closes his eyes in hunger. To hell with being completely still, he needs the friction. He arches his back humping his hips forward, and spreads his legs wider. His own cock is distressed with how much it wants its freedom. The wolf bites down on his shoulder. It's to hold him down through the renewed grunting shift of the animal's hips._

_________

Cold, wet, and possibly buried under a pile of smelly fur coats, Stiles looked up to see Peter smiling down at him with an empty red cleaning bucket. The damp fur coats began a now way too familiar growl and Stiles buried his face in his hands praying the erections (Count them. One. Two. Yes, two erections) he felt were truly not his own and that of a wolfed out Derek, but such was his life because that's what this appeared to be.

"Feel better kids? Not going to scar the pack further with your...carnal displays?" Peter quipped.

Scott growled off to his left being held back by both Isaac and Boyd, looking like maybe that had been their state for the duration of whatever sex-dream-blackout Stiles and Derek just experienced. Lydia looked as uncomfortable as Jackson, which said something because aside from a few near death experiences not much seemed to faze her. Erica however was searching through her clutch bag. "The wolfsbane laced water you dumped on them will wear off right? They'll do that again?" She held up her phone as if she was waiting for a repeat performance. Perv.

Despite Peter normally hiding in the shadows of rooms, at the moment he took center stage still holding the plastic bucket at his side. "I think I might be able to shed some light on your dreams Stiles." 

Shouldn't Stiles or Derek be moving by now? They were awake weren't they? This wasn't a dream. Why were they still ok with being like this?

"Yes, oh great wise undead uncle of doom, please enlighten us as to why I want to be doggie styled with a new found leaning toward exhibitionism."

Not that it didn't sound rather hot in Stiles' mind, but acting on a mental impulse and doing it were way different things. Especially when said impulse wasn't even acknowledged in his waking mind. Seriously. It's not like he ever looked up doggie porn…Ok. There was that one time when Scott first turned, but that was so he could answer Scott's crazy questions about werewolf sex. It had nothing to do with getting off. Three or four times.

Derek whined above him, and Stiles pet his wet fur without even thinking. Stiles wanted to soothe the animal, make him feel less embarrassed about everything. Derek felt embarrassed. Stiles knew it, even before the wolf's head buried a little into Stiles' chest. 

Why did he know what Derek felt and why the hell was he trying to make Derek feel better about it? Shouldn't someone be trying to make Stiles feel better about being doggie humped in front of the pack and maybe liking it? Derek reached his muzzle up immediately and licked Stiles' cheek with a quiet almost bashful whine.

And shit, ok Derek felt Stiles' distress too.

Peter smiled down at the pair like Christmas came back. "The Alpha has chosen his mate."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tons of Exposition this chapter. The smut shall return in Chap. 4.
> 
> Special thanks for the fast beta by [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom)

 

The ride to Deaton's should have been more stressful. It should have contained at least one really well earned panic attack and maybe some form of hysterical word vomit. Actually, the last part did happen. Stiles couldn't shut up about what happened at Derek's.

 

"They were dreams! Not real. Today was a dream too right? It had to be a dream." Stiles' shirt was intact and not ripped to shreds like he had imagined, "But then there was a wolf on me, a wolfed out Derek, and we were...Gah! There is no way I'm his mate voluntarily. Someone must have brain washed him. He's not even gay. Since when is he gay?" Stiles flailed his arms along with each sentence. Luckily Scott insisted on driving his baby, the most perfect wonderful powder blue jeep in existance, or they would have crashed by now.

 

"Since when are _you_ gay? I thought Lydia was your full stop L.O.V.E." Scott replied. And thank heaven for Scott, who calmed after realizing Derek didn't go feral and attack Stiles. Which was apparently kind of what it looked like when _that_  happened.

 

"I'm not gay, but I've known I had equal opportunity capabilities since I was nine and…" 

 

"Oh Yeeaaaahhhh. [Strider.](http://plexpedia.com/_upl/edithlotrstrider-orig.jpg) I forgot all about your crush on him." Scott eyed Stiles with a grin. "That also explains the whole Derek thing pretty well. Scruffy, dark and tragic. You have a type."

 

Stiles sputtered. "Seriously? I'm all but werewolf married to a man that might be hexed into liking me and you're mocking my pre-teen boy fantasies? Not cool Scott. Not cool. You don't see me bringing up your J.Lo’s booty issues do you? Hmmm?"

 

"I wouldn't mind if you did and I don't mind that you like guys. You could have talked about that stuff with me."

 

Scott, being the awesome friend he always was, somehow always made Stiles smile. Among their peer group, sexual preference was a total non-issue, but it still meant something that Scott stood by Stiles no matter what. 

 

"Lydia was there. She has everything I ever wanted. Beauty, brains, poise, wit… She is perfection."

 

"Unlike Derek who's ugly, stupid, clumsy, and completely lacking an understanding of sarcasm." Scott said, rolling his eyes like Stiles' brain didn't work right. 

 

"Whose side are you on? I know Derek is just as much of a catch as Lydia. I know I even like to hang out with him from time to time, but there's a big difference in playing a few rounds of Mario Cart and humping each other on the living room floor. Besides, I've never seen him with anyone but females. Women. Of which I am not. This has to be some kind of love whammy hex. Peter seemed to know what was going on. He had the wolfsbane water ready and everything. Do you think he had something to do with it? Is he trying to weaken Derek by making him mate with me?"

 

"I don't think he did." And there was that look again on Scott's face like Stiles was the idiot for not seeing something right in front of him.

 

"What?"

 

"Derek has liked you for a while now."

 

Stiles let his mouth fall open a little for the dramatic effect of this obvious mental screw up. It's has to be screw up since Scott, his bestest buddy, would have mentioned Derek having feelings for Stiles, long before now. "Are you hexed too? Feverish? Maybe I should be driving. I might be a little spastic at the moment, but I'm not delusional."

 

"It's not a hex or a delusion. We've all smelled it on him. He likes you." Scott admitted.

 

Stiles smacked his werewolf friend in the arm. "And you tell me this now?! I could have had hot werewolf man meat in my bed? For how long, Scott? For how long have you been denying me my rights to coitus?"

 

"You can't blame me. I thought you were all about the 'Lydia End Game'."

 

"It's a 15 year plan and I can make exceptions to rules for someone as hot as Derek."

 

Scott huffed before getting quiet a moment, as if he needed to get the right words together for the response. His behavior since "the incident" had been suspicious. Sure he wolfed out to defend Stiles when he thought Derek was attacking him, but once his wolf was satisfied that Stiles wasn't being hurt, Scott seemed relieved. An okay kind of reaction to have when realizing the Alpha wasn't suddenly insane, but now that Stiles thought about it, Scott wasn't the only one who gave off a weird vibe after the erections went away. 

 

"Mates are not taken lightly Stiles. Especially Alpha mates. You're the one who did the research on it for me." 

 

Stiles raised an eyebrow considering his friend and the rest of the pack. "Obviously not enough research since I had no idea sex dreams were part of Mating." None of them seemed surprised. Shouldn't they have been surprised by it? Instead Boyd and Isaac were prepared to hold Scott back. Peter had some freaky wolf-water waiting in a bucket off to the side. Erica, Lydia, and Jackson just sat there and watched.

 

"Deaton said the mating trance phase thing wouldn't activate until both you and Derek were ready."

 

"Ready for what? Scott. How much do you know about Derek and me mating?" Stiles knew he picked up his father's interrogation voice.  Sometimes he used it without even meaning too. Right now he kind of meant to.

 

Scott hesitantly said. "Umm. Not much?"

 

A bold face LIE.

 

"I can't believe this! You knew I would get Stiles-Gone-Wild in front of the pack and didn't warn me!?"

 

"I didn't really know! I was only told of the possibility. If things were meant to happen between you and Derek they would happen on their own. I honestly didn't think it would result in something like THAT. I didn't need to see what I saw today. I was as shocked as you were. I thought the whole bond thing was cerebro."

 

"Cerebral. Cerebro was Professor X's telepathic enhancing machine. And what else did Deaton tell you?"

 

"Honestly he didn't tell me that much, and he'll explain it all better than I will anyway."

 

Apparently everyone knew what was happening before Stiles and maybe even Derek did. The alpha was scared and unsure about everything, but couldn't let anyone know. Stiles knew. Stiles felt it as soon as Peter declared them mates. 

 

Oh, Crap. 

 

What was this supposed to be? Wolfy Sex Ed? Perhaps going so far as to 'divide the class for the comfort level of the students?' Stiles immediately thought of Derek and how much this had to suck for him. The alpha needed to be able to ask questions without the judgment of his betas. Bad enough to have Peter give him this talk instead of his mother or father, but having Stiles there might have made certain aspects even more awkward. "Oh my God. I'm going to get the Birds, Bees, Canine talk with the vet?! Jesus Scott!" 

 

It was all fucking planned out from the start. Peter had even told Scott to drive Stiles to the Deaton's office almost immediately after Derek changed back from his Alpha form. 

 

______________

 

They arrived late in the evening, and Deaton had a small exam room waiting for them.  Two lit candles wafted a calming scent from the windowsill. A small lamp light had been turned on. "It's begun then?" The doctor or more appropriately titled witch-doctor asked.

 

"How long have you and Peter known this would happen?" Stiles never was one to delay the important  questions. Now that things directly concerned him, there was no way in hell Stiles would pull punches.

 

"Not long. It was assumed you both would become mates due to Derek's wolf's growing attraction to you."

 

"His wolf's attraction? He's not attracted to me? So this IS some kind of magical hocus-pocus. I knew Derek was straight." A part of Stiles felt immediate disappointment, but outwardly he did his best to show nothing but relief.  "How do we turn the wolf off from wanting the Stiles lovin'? "

 

"First off I never said Derek didn't want you as well. Just that it was obvious to both Peter and I that the wolf has had some interest for a while now. Derek's more human interest in you is something you both have time to discuss. Also this is not a hex, or magic in the way you're thinking. It's a natural occurrence for a werewolf, especially an alpha to find and accept a mate."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes playing off the butterflies forming a conga line in his stomach. "And here it comes, The Sex Talk. I'm ready. What weirdo kinky shit do I have to do to if this mate thing is real?"

 

Scott placed a supportive hand on Stiles' shoulder, giving it a squeeeze before letting go.

 

The vet walked over to the exam table and gestured for Stiles to sit. "I need to ask you about the dreams. In them, have you been able to use or see your hands yet?"

 

"Sometimes I can see them, but my hands are always…unavailable." Stiles blushed because really he didn't need to give details about how much he wanted to touch Derek, or how excited he got while being pinned down. 

 

"That's good. Don't give into the urge to use your hands in these dreams until it's time for the ritual. Derek must remain in complete control until the full moon."

 

Stiles read about mating rituals normally taking place on full or new moons. Most involved a form of sexual contact with the pack witnessing it in some way. "Which ritual do we have to perform?" Different packs favored different forms of bonding too. One or two utilized simple chaste kisses, others had blood rites involved. The spectrum of things between had been ridiculous in scope. So Stiles never bothered to study them all. 

 

"Are you familiar with the Certamentia Famulat?"

 

"No." 

 

"The Hale family believed in a certain amount of equality in their relationships. For generations they performed the Certamentia Famulat, or for lack of better words, a binding duel. The goal was to prove the person being added to the family was not only worthy of their mate, but able to defend the pack. You will have to overpower Derek, bind him in some way and … complete the ritual."

 

Stiles muttered to himself. "Kinky ass werewolves," then continued more out loud. "The Hales were into bondage?"

 

"Stiles, that’s not what I said."

 

"Yes it was. You said I have to tie up Derek and fuck him on the full moon to prove I'm capable of saving the pack. Which really? Really?" Stiles narrowed his eyes in judgement of the witch-doctor.

 

"It's not like that. It's more a showing of shared authority."

 

"Then what's with me not moving in the dreams until then? They seem more kink-derived than authority-derived." Stiles could still feel Derek's weighted warmth rocking him down into submission. Odd that in those bound moments Stiles felt more powerful than he ever had in his life. Maybe it was because he made Derek want him like that, made a werewolf that prided himself on being able to reign in animalistic tendencies, out of his mind with instinctive lust. Fuck. It was hot.

 

And with that, Scott left the room. Knowing about Stiles' growing fetish for physical immobility might have been crossing some friendship lines. Stiles didn't blame his friend for running from what was probably Stiles' super arroused stench.

 

"As part of the bonding experience, the dreams are aspects of your combined sexual desires. During this time you are meant to familiarize yourselves emotionally and sexually until the bond solidifies."

 

"Huh. What's the catch?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"There has to be a catch some place. Derek's hotter than a thousand suns. I'd be lucky to have him for a mate. Too lucky. What's the catch? There’s always a catch. Neither Derek or I are lucky enough for this to be as easy as us screwing each other on the full moon and living happily ever after. And I say that even realizing that Derek probaby isn't even bi-curious."

 

"Well there is a danger to the process. You can't consummate the relationship until the full moon. Derek is at a very low level of control right now, and so are you. The chances of you hurting each other during this phase is rather high."

 

"Hence Peter with his bucket of cock-block water?" 

 

"Yes, it's easier for you to give into temptation and move from submissive postures during times of true physical contact. His wolf could see that as a threat and attack you before the power of the full moon had a chance to guide the bond. Not to mention if you start to feel some of his urges and you attack him based on those instincts. It's very dangerous before your mind and body catches up with the possibilities."

 

"What possibilities?" Fucking cryptic ass Deaton.

 

"That is something you and Derek have to talk through." 

 

"How am I supposed to talk to him if we can be in the same room? Text, Skype, land lines?" Stiles assumed that direct eye contact was the trigger since they were fine in the room with each other until that point, but considering the dangers of them going totally wacked-out feral, cell phone dates might be in his near future.

 

Scott returned to the room. This time holding a metallic blue spray bottle, a cheep one like Stiles bought at the dollar store for misiting his mom's herb garden.

 

Deaton calmly said. "Neither of you will be left alone, and the others will be able to stop you should things get out of hand."

 

Scott held up the bottle with a smile.

 

Stiles got a really bad feeling about where this was headed.

 

_____________

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Dreams, more Perv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom) & [necoleisidarmalfoy](http://necoleisidarmalfoy.tumblr.com) for the fast beta!

_All the elements of the forest floor dig into his back, a twig, dirt, leaves. A small rock even twists at his shoulder blade, but somehow he doesn't give a second thought to it. Instead he relishes the smell of life, the smell of sex. And isn't that odd that he never put together those to ideas before? Sex and life are meant to be companions just as much as peanut butter and jelly, or milk and cookies. The trees, the flowers, the curious animals surrounding them, they all exist because of sex and for sex. Stiles feels part of it now. He's like the forest. He's alive and ready to mate._

 

_Derek tugs slow and steady on Stiles' left nipple. Teeth aren't involved; much to Stiles dismay, but the heavy suction combined with the rough licks of Derek's tongue have Stiles panting shallow breaths as the skin turns pink, moaning wantonly when it turns red, and whimpering through his first orgasm of the night as the bruised sensitive skin finally gets released._

 

_The wolf teases his powerful gaze up at Stiles like the newly minted man is made just for him to brand. Stiles wants the little marks of belonging, meaning everything to his alpha, to his pack. He groans begging for another reminder and Derek predatorily smiles, slipping down further to the splatter of come on Stiles' stomach._

 

_Derek sniffs at it, closes his eyes and hums like it was fresh baked cookies. He's so blissed out Stiles wonders if wandering around the woods naked, covered in come is an option for the future. The thoughts of all the ways in which he could get covered in come then flood his mind. Derek repeatedly jacking off over him, spreading it with Stiles' own hand. Derek fucking him so full that it drips down his thighs, past his knees, and covers even his toes. The pack gathered around watching Derek fuck him and in the end helping to mark Stiles, each one climaxing in turn over his skin._

 

_The werewolf watches Stiles, prideful in the ways that he's making his mate feel, then licks down at one of the drops of come. Derek seals his mouth over the spot and sucks the skin's flavor enough to leave a new mark. He repeats the process for each drop of Stiles' spunk, and it's so deliciously filthy the way Derek looks doing it, too. The whole process has brought Stiles back from fantasies about come covered smiles and into the present of a newly formed erection. His dick is moments from Derek's mouth. It's the last little drop of come left. Stiles can't wait for it to be sucked down._

 

 

 

 ____________

 

Stiles sputtered as the bitter earthy water snapped him back to reality. 

 

Two months ago (two traitorous months that he knew nothing about), the entire pack had been issued spray bottles. The contents of which, a heinous invention of Doc. Deaton,  included eucalyptus, aconite gnarus, and some ground up dried bug that only ate super calming vegan stuff and therefore could pass on its superior zen-a-tude long after it was dead. It was disgusting, especially in the ways it slowed things down from woodsy jizz fantasies to Scott with his plastic container of evil. 

 

Stiles definitely liked waking up to come covered sheets more and said as much to Scott who should have been sleeping on the air mattress at the end of Stiles' bed. The werewolf instead hovered with his bright blue cock-block water aimed at Stiles. 

 

 

"Derek's not here." Stiles grumbled. "You didn't need to do that." Deaton had been clear about the directions.

 

Snatching the bottle from his best friend, Stiles read aloud from the nonexistent label. "Only use if the Alpha and Human make direct fornicating contact. Warning: May cause blue balls so only use as directed."

 

"I'm not comfortable listening to you make sounds like that."

 

"Then go take a walk or a shower or something. You can defend my virtue without ruining the only fun I'm going to have in this nightmare."

 

Scott's face pinched in concern. "Is it really that much of a nightmare for you? If it is, you don't have to do this."

 

Nightmare? Stiles scrubbed a hand over his half sleep damp face and sighed.  He really wasn't sure yet, but Stiles reeked of realism as much as arousal and this whole thing with Derek could only end badly. "Listen. I appreciate you standing by me," He looked over at the clock next to his bed. It read 5am. "But Derek is supposed to call me in 3 hours to have our very first talk about all of this." _And I'm scared_. "And I'm horny, wet, and most likely not getting back to sleep until all of the above conditions are fixed. So if you don't want to stick around while I remove some of this tension, by all means go for a run around the block."

 

"But what if Derek shows up?"

 

"Isaac, Peter, and Boyd are on duty with him tonight. You said that yourself. They won't let him out of his wolf-cave. And even if by some chance he does, you'll still have time to hose us down, before anything sextacular occurs."

 

____________________

 

_Bent in half, ass in the air, what better way to attract it's attention. It's comfortable on his knees head down in a pile of leaves, but the tension of waiting stirs heat between his thighs and behind his cock._

_The Wolf, and yes this time it really is the Wolf, with a capital "W" does his best to mount Stiles. The animal is big enough to walk forward over Stiles' body. Its red cock hangs unsheathed, pointed and ready to thrust deep into Stiles, but it's anxious. The panting over Stiles' head translates to a craving so deep that the wolf might not be sane enough to pull back if Stiles is hurt, and unlike the healthy fear of an animal that could kill him instantly, the fear that ratchets up the sexual tension and teases nuts so tight Stiles thinks he could come from it, this current fear isn't good. It isn't safe._

 

_Is it because the wolf's afraid? Or is it from Stiles?_

 

_Stiles arches his back up into the warm fur. The sound of Derek's muzzle smacking around a gulp of air is the second thing Stiles thinks he's hears all night. The leaves below him don't even crunch when he pushes up off of them and rubs his back along the comforting stomach of the alpha. There's a cock still knocking against the back of Stiles' thighs, but the urgency to thrust deep without consequence slowly eases with each arching motion._

 

_Soon the wolf nudges Stiles onto his back. Again the sounds of the forest are dead. Only Derek seems to be able to make noise in this world, but the wolf is silent. Almost always silent. They stare at each other a long while, so long Stiles isn't sure if the moon shifts away into the night or the sun's steady rise just happens to be fading it from view._

 

_Finally, Derek moves down over Stiles and holds him there._

 

_____________

 

This time Stiles woke up in his own bed. Scott was nowhere in sight, but Stiles could feel him close by. It was strange that he could, right? Stiles did a fast double check in the mirror across from his bed for fangs or brightly colored eyes. Nope. Still human. 

 

A few stray leaves decorated the room enough to make it looked like Scott had been in and out most of the night. His clock said 7:50am, which meant he had time for a very quick shower, or time to set up a very long bath. He chose the latter.

 

He balled up his sheets quickly, putting them in the washer for later, wrote out a note for Scott about a breakfast plate of leftovers in the fridge and then ran to the bathroom with his phone. It's not like he normally washed his sheets every time he got off in them, but Scott was kind of going above and beyond friends to stand by Stiles' side through this. The least Stiles could do was to get some of the spunk smell out of the room they had to share.

 

 

The tub got cleaned a little and then filled with hot water. If bubble gum flavored bubbles happened to be there along with Quackers, [the devil duck](http://www.scenicreflections.com/files/Red_Devil_Duck_Wallpaper_dylvq.jpg), no one really needed to know but Stiles. (And maybe Scott, if his werewolf buddy sniffed too hard outside the door.)

 

The phone rang as his butt hit the warmed tiled bottom of the tub. 

 

[But you wanna justify](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=HnC9YxKe3Lk#t=25s)

[Rippin' Someone's head off](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=HnC9YxKe3Lk#t=25s)

[No human contact](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=HnC9YxKe3Lk#t=25s)

[And if you interact ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=HnC9YxKe3Lk#t=25s)

[Your life is on contract.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=HnC9YxKe3Lk#t=25s)

Recently Stiles had changed all his ring tones for the pack to "Patent Pending" songs. Derek's just happened to fit their meloncholy Limp Bizcut cover almost as much as [the Douchebag song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6XHdybfV5Cw) fit Jackson. Thinking about Douchebag made Stiles giggle into his bubbles. A good thing since he needed to relax before he took this call.

 

"Hey" Stiles answered in as non-committal a voice as he could. This whole conversation was about a huge commitment, so he figured it would make sense to start off trying not to show he gave a damn. Stiles smacked himself in the head.

 

"Hello" Derek answered back.

 

"What are you wearing? Not that I wanted to start talking about sex right away, but I figured I'd let you know I'm naked in the bath tub. I needed to relax as much as possible before, during, and most likely after we talk about this and since I don't own a massage chair, this seemed like the best option. Are you naked too? Or is it just going to be me embarrassing myself and babbling like an idiot covered in Mr. Bubble." Stiles smacked himself again, this time clamping a hand over his mouth. The rambling thing only got him into trouble. Why did his brain insist on doing it?

 

"It's a good idea. Mind if I join you?" Derek said almost deadpanned. His voice echoed a little more than normal though and then the rush of white noise, water, filled the background of the phone.

 

"Flirting? Was that flirting? Even if it wasn't, I think both of us in the same state of dress during these conversations-toward-mating should be a rule or something. It gives us equal footing don'cha think?" 

 

"I have no problem with it, but I don't have any Mr. Bubble." Again the deadpan, but this time Stiles could feel the familiar smirk behind it.

 

"A travesty that I shall rectify. And speaking of rectification- you didn't know about this, did you?"

 

Stiles heard water splash on the other end of the line. 

 

"No. I didn't know all the details of what was going on. I only knew my wolf liked you." 

 

"And Derek the man doesn't, right?" Stiles waited for it. He knew this part was coming. He wanted to get it over with so they could discuss finding the wolf a suitable vagina, and then maybe both of them could get past this slightly uncomfortable hiccup in what was a nicely progressing friendship, too.

 

"It's not that simple. I started having dreams about 6 months ago. I was aware you were in them and then the dreams turned more real. I assume that's when some part of you accepted the idea."

 

"Dreams don't make you want to mate with me, Derek. I dreamt of a actor for over a decade. And as much as I would literally bend over backwards for his big sword in my real life bed, that doesn't make me want to marry the guy. I don't even know him."

 

Stiles may not have had were-hearing, but he heard that dangerous growl when mentioning bending over for someone other than Derek and made note of it. He also may have swooned a little at the idea of Derek getting jealous, but most likely it was the hot bath water affecting him.

 

"I took some psychology in college," Derek's voice conveyed his disdain for the subject. "Discussions on 'Id' were the only things I enjoyed, because the concept reminds me of werewolves. My wolf is me. I am my wolf. We are not different and we have the same mind. He is my 'id'. All of the things I ever wanted to do without boundaries limiting every action."

 

"So it's easier to separate and rationalize your own desires by blaming it on the wolf? Also, you're saying you wanted me for six months? Which is still hard for me to believe, I mean, do you even like dick? Because I'm looking at mine right now and I definitely have one. It's ok if you don't. There are couples that apparently can live without sex in their lives, not that I'm looking forward to a sexless marriage at the ripe old age of 18, but… "

 

"Stiles, you just asked me four questions. I'd like to be able to answer one or two before you keep adding more on."

 

"Ok. Gay, straight, or curious?"

 

"At the moment, I have no idea. Ask me six months ago, I would have said I straight."

 

"How do you know you're not straight anymore?"

 

"I was immediately hard at the thought of you naked in a tub of bubbles."

 

"Dick and all?"

 

"mmhmm" The response was breathy. _Too_ breathy.

 

"Are you touching yourself Derek?"

 

"Aren't you?"

 

"Yes." Fuck. Stiles should have known the werewolf could hear his hand moving in the water. "How much of the dreams do you remember? Are we really sharing everything that's happening in them?" Stiles wasn't masturbating with focused determination. Instead, his hand lazily stroked up and down, enjoying the rumble of Derek's voice. They had time for this.

 

"I had two last night, both in the woods. You were covered in come that I sucked off of you in the first. Then you just left right before I was about to…" Derek's words faultered. He must have been lost in that memory too. 

 

"Yeah" Stiles panted out hard, giggling mentally at the situation. Phone sex with Derek would be possible in a Dr. Who, or Twilight Zone episode? At the moment he wasn't sure which had become his life. "Scott woke me with the Holy Water of Forever Chastity and the first thing I did when I got up from that dream was rub my hands over where those marks you made were supposed to be. I missed them. I wanted them so badly in the dream."

 

"You did?" Derek said with as much surprise as lust.

 

"Yeah. Don't you feel how much I want you to claim me in them?"

 

"I do, but it's nice to hear you say it, so I know I'm not making it up in my head."

 

"Is that why you seemed so scared in the second dream?"

 

"I think you leaving the first so abruptly made my fears about things come up."

 

"Fears like you hurting me or pushing the relationship too far? Yeah, you're not and you wouldn't."

 

"Being my mate is a pretty big push Stiles."

 

"Something that my body and mind apparently are ready for (on some level)." Stiles could feel the conversation turning and he didn't like where it was headed. Derek was shutting down. Closing off. He did it most when he thought he was protecting people.

 

"Apparently."

 

A one word response. Stiles hadn't been relegated to those in months. Then again most of this conversation so far surpassed everything he and Derek ever talked about. Ever. "Yes - apparently. Over the last year, we watched a few movies, played a few games, and then saved each other's lives a few dozen times. We never talked like this. In fact, I'm shocked you're saying as much as you are. I've never heard you talk this much (about feelings) especially about things like "id".

 

"It's hard, but what choice do I have? I don't want to hurt you or myself by not opening up the way we should if we want this to work. I have to talk to you."

 

"Oh, you poor alpha." The hurt in Stiles voice must have been obvious, but the young man didn't care. Derek was being forced to do things he didn't like, which included opening up to Stiles.

 

"You know I don't share personal things well. It's not a reflection on how much I want, or at this point, need you. It's a reflection on my own hang ups that I have to get over."

 

"'It's not you. It's me?' You know, at first I thought I could grin and bear the thought of being mated to the hottest, bravest, most loyal person I've ever known. I figured I could do worse. I knew I cared about you and that I liked spending time with you. I figured that even if part of you didn't love me or want me physically, at least at the core-you liked me enough to talk to me."

 

There was a frustrated huff, splashing of water, and then. "This isn't working. I'm coming over."

 

_Click_. Derek hung up the phone.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom) for the fast beta!

 

Technically, they had 20 days to disable this relationship land mine, and if they failed in their mission, both Derek and Stiles would be bound together as mates. Their epically tragic not-love would blow up all over the pack, all over their futures. What made matters worse, was now the idiot Alpha was on his way to Casa Stilinski, when they were specifically warned not to be anywhere near each other or risk death by super-sexual horny mauling. 

"Derek said he was coming over" Stiles texted to Scott, Peter, Isaac, Deaton, and Boyd. The whole pack didn't need to be woken up on a Sunday morning, might as well keep it to those on guard duty.

"The hell he is." Scott replied only to Stiles.

Boyd sent a mass response. "He's on his way. We couldn't stop him."

Thankfully Deaton's text was only to Stiles. "Put the mountain ash around your room and use that item I gave you."  Explaining the item in question placed low on Stiles' Share-o-meter, especially since he had yet to personally pass judgment on its use.  

Stiles could never be said to live in vanilla prude land or anti-discussing sexville. In fact, the topic held the number one babble spot from age 8 through 16, when he finally figured out anything he could think of sexually, could be researched on-line, along with stuff he never thought of in a million years. The internet was a gift. And now that he thought more about it, the thing Deaton gave him wasn't notably kinky by web standards. It barely left vanilla territory. It was really vanilla-with-sprinkles or whipped cream. And now he was thinking of using Deaton's gift with a can of Reddi-whip. Surprise, surprise - Derek's featured as the one holding the can while spraying dollops of foamy sweet sugar all over Stiles and licking it off, leaving behind full lip shaped suction marks.

Stiles shivered. No one said that he had to lock himself in his room during Derek's visit. He could stay where he was. He only really needed to run across the hall to get the mountain ash and Deaton's little 'sprinkle' of a present. He could be back in the land of bubble secure with a circle of ash blocking him blissfully into his still warm tubby. And if he got off to a few fantasies while he was in there, did it really matter? 

Derek and he already shared some rather impressive occipital lobe porn. So if they were going to get Derek's wolf over its crush, what better way than to have the two things Derek held no interest in be front and center during his arrival, namely Stiles' dick and Stiles talking about it. The Alpha already admitted to not being gay 6 months ago. A 26 year old never having any inclinations towards the D, suddenly head over ass for Stiles? No way in hell. That wasn't even a lack of self esteem talking. That was plain old fashioned logic. People didn't switch or add teams mid game, even the new Madden NFL didn't allow that and it had a bazillion options.  

Then there was the whole, not wanting to talk, but being forced to do so against his will. That part kind of made Stiles stomach turn. Derek opening up to share feelings on any level was more than rare. Their brief conversation before the Alpha hung up, maybe even scared Stiles a little, both because of the ease Stiles felt saying the things he did and the immediate pain he felt realizing that Derek didn't feel the same steadiness. The Alpha's voice worked better than stupid phone ringtones on Stiles' nerves, better than sedation.  

Stiles made a run for it sans towel for his room. The only person that should have been in his house at the moment was Scott and at this point in their lives (post lacrosse and Wolfhood) the brothers from another mother didn't care about nudity. Good thing too, since knowing Derek's speed, Stiles didn't have oodles of time to dry off, and put on sweats. Nope, he ran trailing watery footprints behind him. 

The path went directly to his mountain ash supply carefully hidden in the hollowed out bottom of his Tony Stark bust. The prize sculpture once held lube and a USB flash drive of his rare porn. Now it held, mountain ash, wolfsbane samples, and two small switch blades coated in all of it. 

Stiles breifly pondered what had become of his life. The lube sat on the small table by the bed and the USB blinked, happily plugged into the side of his laptop. It had more werewolf files on it now than porn. Obviously his priorities needed major fixing.

Cold drops of water hit his still tub warmed skin causing Stiles to yelp and jump. 

"Derek's on his way over and you're bent over your bed with your ass in the air. Is this a mating thing? Do I have to keep spraying you?" Scott looked down at the bottle warily, like he wondered if the concoction worked at all.

"I'm getting my mountain ash to lock myself in the bathroom." Stiles flipped his not there hair. "I want to finish my 'me' time and I'll not have a lust crazy alpha ruin it."

"Me time?" Scott sprayed Stiles again causing Stiles to sputter and glare at his friend.

"Stop doing that!"

"Then stop being horny. You need to take this seriously. Derek shouldn't be near you and he really shouldn't be around you having 'me' time when he's a 'horny alpha'."

"Not my problem. I have mountain ash and I know how to use it, so get out of my way so I can barricade my fine drenched ass back where it belongs." 

Scott cocked his head to the side like all the wolves did when they heard something. Usually it made Stiles want to ask if they were hearing Timmy down the well, instead Stiles said. "Shit." He pushed past a now growling Scott and took his naked, dripping self to his chosen bunker. 

"Shit. Double shit." Stiles cursed again before begining the circle around the bathroom. The bag of Mountain Ash was successfully acquired, but Scott interrupted him before he could get Deaton's added insurance.  Unfortunately now was not the time to be thinking of sprinkle items. Stiles needed to will into existence a strong barrier against danger. "No werewolf-zone, no zombies, no wendigos, no harpies, no unicorns - Nothing." Stiles didn't discriminate against any specific supernatural creatures when he used the stuff. He tried to always imagine the entire catalog of no good, possibly no good, and suspiciously good. The books claimed Mountain Ash to be strong enough (relative to users belief) to block out whatever he needed, and if that was the case extra shielding never hurt.

The final grains of ash thrummed to completion. Almost immediately Stiles heard several loud growls followed by a slam so hard the house shook. His breath caught in his chest. Derek wouldn't hurt Scott. He wouldn't. Stiles moved to open the door. A stupid idea, but he had to check on his friend, check on Derek. No sooner had his hand touched the knob, Scott quietly spoke at the other side of the bathroom door. "I'm going to be downstairs and let you two talk for a bit."

"What happened to defending my honor?" Stiles bit back. No venom laced in his words, but maybe a little hurt at the ease with which Scott gave up. Especially since Stiles was about to open a door to possible death.

"I don't think Derek can hurt you the way he is right now."

"How IS he Scott? What did you do to him?!" The panic in Stiles voice surprised everyone within hearing range, mostly Stiles.

"I'm fine," came Derek's voice. 

He hoped the shuffling feet outside the bathroom door masked his epic sigh of relief, but with werewolves emotional privacy existed only as a rare holiday treat. 

"I'm fine" Derek said again.

"Ok." Stiles said, and that was all he had to say. Words normally flowed out of him like the Niagara, and now he could only manage a feeble 'ok'. He looked around the bathroom trying to find any train of thought to babble on about, anything comfortable to speak upon that would help ease his own tension, but there was nothing. Too long of an award pause full of nothing. A reminder of how much Derek didn't want to be there at all or talk to Stiles like they would need to if they wanted to make this work. Derek didn't want him.

Then the Alpha broke the silence (and maybe the start of Stiles having some kind of attack), "Scott will still hear us, but I told the others to stay away. I want you to feel safe with me."

Stiles breathed. When did he stop doing that again? Breathing was good and Derek's words gave him something to latch on to. He could work with that. Hell ya. Stiles' words were back from hiatus. "I doubt we would be in this mess if I didn't feel safe with you, but then again, I am barricaded in my bathroom so we won't kill each other via dick." The image of him and Derek back to back walking ten paces, turning and pointing their cocks at one another made Stiles nervously laugh. The Hales name for their mating ritual involved the concept of dueling right? "Banananananananaaa" Stiles started singing 'Dueling Banjoes' to himself while flicking the tip of his dick back and forth. Being an only child had its perks. Stiles could distract himself almost anywhere, doing anything.

"Stiles." Derek's voice pulled him back from wandering old west dick duels and into the reality of being trapped again.

"Why did you come? You already said you don't want to talk to me."

"I don't. It's not easy, but I have to do it because I don't want to lose you. I came here because I needed…I can understand you when you're this close, and I know it's the same for you."

Stiles knew Scott was in the kitchen downstairs munching happily on the leftovers, trying to listen in without listening in. He knew Peter, Boyd and Isaac stood guard less than a block away. He knew of Derek's approach to the Stilinski home before Scott did. He could feel it. The pack oddly ached in his bones with Derek burrowed deep in the center. It wasn't just a location thing with Derek either. It was emotional overflows that fed back in twisted loops from the alpha's mind to his own. Maybe that was why he wanted to think more about wild-west dicks than this conversation. So much of what Derek felt right now was confused with his own emotions. What was real? What was his? What was Derek's? What if it all was because of the damn moon? "6 months of not mentioning that you might even like me isn't a ringing endorsement for you to suddenly having to break through a beta blockade to get to me. It still sounds awfully like a magical whammy."

"You know it's not, which is why we have to keep talking. I don't want misunderstandings because I have trouble saying things."

Technically, the Mountain Ash should have blocked out all Supernatural forces that could do damage to Stiles, why the cheap black dirt didn't seem to help against the near assault of Derek mentally screaming for Stiles to hold him? (or was it Derek who wanted to hold Stiles?)

"Are you sure you're ok?" Stiles asked again.

"I'm here. I'm with you."

"As if that answered the question."

"It does. I need pack, but more importantly, I need you. I'm with you so I'm fine."

"Are you going to be saying sappy stuff like this to me for the next three weeks?" Because Stiles might not make it and jump Derek, to hell with the danger involved.

"If I have to."

"I think that's the point. I don't want you to 'have to' do anything."

"Not an option, since we both like each other."

They were already more than friends before they actually could tolerate each other enough to spend time together. People didn't spend hours saving each other from the brink of death time and again without forming deep connections. From the emotions Stiles felt right now. He knew it went beyond 'like'. It might not have been love, but there was a strong familial bond of pack that reinforced the attraction. "So what are we supposed to do? At the moment all I can think about is being an Alpha cuddle toy and whether or not Wyatt Earp and Billy the Kid pointed their dicks at each other before their guns.”

Derek laughed a little. The sounds made Stiles smile. It was one of those dopey, stupid smiles that cartoon characters (and Scott) got when they saw the object of their affection. Stiles confirmed it when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Was he really Peppy le Pew gone? The Image of Stiles bouncing happily after a severely reluctant Derek flooded his mind.

"I'm guessing we should talk about the dreams a little more." Derek said. "Peter explained some things." His gruff voice no longer hid his embarrassment from Stiles, who found the situation nerve-wracking as much as exceedingly cute.

_Cute?_

Reeling from the idea of Derek and Cute being pushed together in his mind, oh so much more disturbing than a love-sick skunk version of himself, Stiles retreated to the bathtub. The water was still warm, but he added a quick blast of heat. "Ok, let’s share about our sex-ed classes. What did uncle dearest say?"

The tension in Derek began to bleed away after he first laughed. Now it held a tinged curl of lust and fear. "We share the dreams until the full moon. They'll feel real and stay with us. They're our desires." He paused. Pre mate-dreams, Stiles would have assumed it was the alpha being dramatic, but now he felt the embarrassment spike. "They're ideas we don't need to introduce to the other because we already agree and want those things."

And now Stiles face flushed red, didn't even need to check the mirror. They both just admitted (in a way) to liking the idea of Derek's wolf dick being involved, cum everywhere, marking galore, and tinkle twinkle time. It also made Stiles exceedingly hard, but that was beside the point. "So Peter explained it was a giant form of kink negotiation?" That must have been a fun afternoon. 

"It's not only sexual, other things can be seen in the dreams, but people have trouble sometimes…" Saying what they want? Speaking in general? Stiles could only imagine the years of couples therapy both Derek and he would need to get to this point of conversation. "The mating dreams leading up to the bonding are supposed to knock away all inhibitions and let what we both want to the surface."

"Did they bring up more questions for you?" Splashing a little in the water, Stiles mentally goes back to the dream with all the marking and come everywhere. "Do you remember what you were thinking during those dreams? Do you like the additional ideas you had or are you so focused in that moment that you can't think of anything else? For me it's kind of both. I get caught up in what we're doing, but my mind wonders where we could go in the future and when I play it all back I can still remember what I was thinking and feeling at the time."

"It's both for me, too." Derek's words almost held a blush to them, stilted and unsure, like he wanted to say more but couldn't. Damn it. 

Derek was right to come over. With him outside the door, Stiles could not only hear the words but the meanings behind them. The Alpha really wasn't comfortable doing this. Maybe it was talking about the depths of their sexual freak with Scott in hearing distance? Maybe it was Derek not being ready to be sexual? Hmmm. "Do you think I could talk to you in these dreams?"

Suddenly, Derek seemed sad and worried. "Peter said we should be talking when I asked him the same question."

Something in Stiles snapped, like he wanted to defend Derek and their relationship. He had no reason for it, but, "Peter isn't a werewolf mating Yoda. Neither was Deaton, however the vet said the dreams are about our personal possibilities. I think this whole process is about things we develop for us and that are unique to us. So if we don't talk in the dreams, we don't talk in them. I only asked because I wanted to tell you things without the pack listening in and right now we really only have two options. We talk over the phone and lose the ability to 'understand' what's being said, or we understand each other and have to share every last perverted thought we ever had with whomever draws the short straw as our sexual baby-sitter. Although I think Erica and Peter might volunteer."

Derek grunted but relaxed. Again, Stiles was grateful for proximity to help make sense of his possibly future mate's reactions. A grunt like that would have frustrated Stiles over the phone and made him question what he had said and if Derek agreed.

"There is the third option." Stiles muttered to himself, thinking about the little gift Deaton gave him as insurance, but it was dangerous. More dangerous than the mountain ash barrier, which worked only if Stiles remained focused and in control. Technically Derek being here like this meant that he trusted Stiles to not run through the barrier at every impulse to hump, hug, or maul the Alpha, which in the 20 minutes since his arrival have been a couple dozen times. In fact, the urge got harder to resist every time he heard Derek's voice laced with discomfort, lust or fear.

"Third option?" Derek all but whispered. He was scared and desperate.

Stiles let his hand roam the surface of the water. The fake plastic sweet smell of bubble gum filled his nose. _Don't run to him. Speak. Explain. He thinks you want to leave him. Don't open the door. Don't hold him. Speak. Explain._ "Deaton gave me something else to use around you. An emergency item that involves lots of trust on both our parts if we use it."

A soft chuckle made it through the door and Stiles stared at the wood, like it would explain how Derek's whole being shifted from fear to relief to lust in almost a heart-beat. 

Fucking roller coasters of emotions were going to kill Stiles before the sex got the chance. "What? What's so funny?"

"Scott let me stay when he saw what I was wearing."

Stiles brain rewound over earlier that morning to the demand that both Derek and he dress in similar states of nudity when they spoke about mating. "Scott got freaked out about your junk in his face?" Because that made even less sense. Derek obviously ran over to Stiles' place in his wolf form, this meant he was naked on the other side of the door. Not exactly a new state for the alpha, or any pack member. "Did you paint you dick green and charge at him shouting about Jabberwockies? You know Alice in Wonderland freaks him out since that whole Kanima thing. You shouldn't have used it against him like that."

More laughter broke through the door. Stiles wasn't sure if he was hearing it as much as feeling it. The surreal still sexualized moment fluffed up the world around him even more so that the bubbles.

"How could you possible think I wouldn't want you at my side when you can make me happy so easily?" Derek took a breath, and before Stiles could answer the Alpha continued. "Stiles, Deaton sent me the same item he gave you. I put them on as soon as I set foot in this house."

"Uhnnnnna." Stiles choked or whined, maybe it was both. His cock tightened almost painfully between his legs to the image of Derek naked in his hallway, wearing nothing but [a slim leather blinding strap](http://img3.etsystatic.com/000/0/5830989/il_570xN.237637871.jpg) across his eyes. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not! Smut starts(and maybe is the total of) the next chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay and the brevity. Chapter 7 should be out much faster and be about twice the length. Also a big happy thank you to my beta.

 

 

The light steam filling his lungs couldn't be blamed for the sudden restriction in his ability to do normal everyday things, like breathe, blink, or speak, and Stiles was pretty sure the off pitched "Uhnnnna," noise he emitted summed up everything about his current situation. Derek sat blindfolded, comfortably naked no more than 10 feet away, a very plain wooden door and Mountain ash the only barriers, both of which Stiles could cross any time he damn well wanted to. 

Definitely "Uhnnna" noise worthy.

"Scott, go for a walk." Stiles said without raising his voice. He knew his werewolf friend downstairs could hear him perfectly. "I'll be fine. I need this time with Derek." Scott remained immobile in the kitchen. "We need this." Stiles had no way of knowing if his friend answered him verbally and didn't really care. "I promise not to leave the bathroom. He can't come in here. Please."

Derek grumbled something Stiles could barely make out about responsibilities and then, finally, Scott left.

Barely days ago Stiles assured himself that the dreams about Derek were an obvious ploy from an outside source. They had to be, since dreaming to be with someone like Derek was a waste of time. Guys like Stiles, if they focused on one unattainable goal, they might eventually get lucky.  A near decade of grovel-worship seemed equal to what would be needed to get someone like Lydia to look his way.  While Derek? He might as well have dreamt for Viggo. Derek on looks alone stood too far apart from Stiles. Add to that his loyalty, bravery, and his need to protect his own. The subtle familial vulnerabilities Stiles only recently got to see brought even more to the total package of Derek Hale. 

Now, Stiles sat staring at Mr. Quackers, wondering how in the name of Mr. Bubble he was going to keep his word to Scott about not running to the door, flinging it open and kissing Derek until they both felt secure, or wrapping his arms around the thick coat of a wolf and snuggling down until the world around tapered off and it was just them. That sensation in the apartment when they touched woke up an ache for contact that Stiles knew Derek shared.

"Deaton said they weren't magical, but he mentioned animal skins made for better protection." Derek quietly said. 

Direct eye contact initiated instant Mating Covenant Rites, or as Scott referred to it 'the-Horny-Trance-Thing'. Stiles found his voice again. "Matching leather blindfolds, who knew we'd have such kinky couple gear before you even brought me my first flowers?"

"I bought you flowers before."

"Wolfsbane doesn't count buddy."

"Why not? They're pretty."

Stiles bit his bottom lip. Scott had distanced himself enough, and the suspense was killing him. "Touch yourself."

"From flowers to masturbation? That was a fast jump even for you, Stiles."

"No it wasn't. I need to know. I need to feel it’s you and not the wolf that wants me. I need to know you aren't being forced against your will."

"And you think me getting off in your hallway will prove that?"

"We both know it couldn't hurt. We're connected now. I'll know that you want me. When I tell you I'm touching myself, I'll feel your reaction." Like the fresh vibrations of heat that curled around Stiles even before Scott left.

"You could just trust me when I say I've been masturbating to you for months."

"The trust goes both ways. Are you touching yourself?"

"I started before Scott left. Having you this close, turned on…" A low barely audible growl broke Derek's speech. " _I want you_."

He did too. Part of him radiated desire comparable to the nuclear fission reaction used to make the Hulk. Gamma rays complete with images of an even more muscled/hulked out green Derek flitted through Stiles' mind. Hot. Stiles filed the obvious Halloween costume idea away for future reference 

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?" Stiles was curious to know if the dreams they shared would get kinkier and if they involved green cosplay. Also, the idea of Derek fantasizing about his 147 pounds of sass while spread eagle on his bed, or drenched in river water, humping into his fist, coming sticky wet thick chains of spunk all over his fingers and thighs and stomach…yeah. That really needed to be explored for future Stiles spank bank material. 

"You're on your knees or on your back. Sometimes you're on all fours. Always, your mouth is open. Wet."

Stiles' knees pressed as far apart as the tub would allow, his body more than half sunk into the warm water. The dick he grew to know and love was equal parts angry and overjoyed. Never before had Stiles had a spectator for his masturbatory endeavors and never before had Stiles Jr. been so painfully hard.

"I can’t think of anything better than to suck you off every day for the rest of our lives." Stiles tightened his fist at the base of his cock. He didn't want to come yet. He wanted to drag this teasing out. "That would be like heaven. I have a slight oral fixation. I might even fall asleep with it in my mouth and suck on you all night, even through my dreams. Would you like to come in my mouth all night long? Wake up and fuck past my still ready lips?"

"Yes." Derek sounded broken. "And then..." The lust that seeped into his voice earlier morphed into something carnal. Another noise like that of a hand sliding down the expanse of the door made its way into the reinforced tubby sanctum. Instant Replay of one shared dream flooded Stiles mind. The image of being fucked slowly in his mouth, Derek coming hard against his lips and down his throat and then...

"And then?" Stiles wanted to say it, and even though they both already dreamt about it together, it appeared neither of them was willing to admit what Derek would do to Stiles mouth every morning. 

Fuck - Stiles' cock would have a bruise from how hard he held back his own orgasm. "What else do I do to get you off, Derek?" _Say it._ Stiles needed Derek to say it.

The Alpha grunted out a near moaning, "Beg."

Not the words Stiles wanted, but he could work with it. "What should I beg for?" _Trust me, damn it. Say it._

More broken heated words filtered through the door along with every manner of Derek's blatant desire for Stiles. "To keep going after I've come in your mouth. To mark you and claim you again."

Close. _So_ close. The tinge of fear coloring Derek's emotions screwed up a really good emotional wave of Fuck-I -Must-Have-You and something told Stiles that if they could admit the "and then…" portions, the fear would be gone for good. One of them needed to acknowledge it. Maybe it needed to be Stiles. Maybe Derek didn't know because, "I might have woken up at that point, but that doesn't mean I'm not turned on by it." Boy was he turned on. His cock weeped through his fingers as his heart pounded. "I want that too, Derek. I want you to do that to me. I want you to claim me to that extent. Repeatedly." Maybe they should invest in some rubber sheets or tile floors for the bedroom. Or would they be doing all of their watersport activities in the woods? It counted as sort of a primal, back to nature kind of thing. It made sense to do it outside, "Maybe even in your wolf form. Would you do that to me? Would you fuck me open as your wolf? Then when I'm spent, covered in your come both inside and out, would you mark me again?"

"Yes." The response drew out so long that it almost didn't seem like a word. Stiles internally cheered at his ability to bring that kind of heat to the Alpha jerking it at his door.

So maybe they both couldn't verbalize it without the wolfy connotations, but at least it stood out there like the proper yellowish freak flag it was. Stiles wanted Derek to piss on him, and there was a serious 99.9% chance of that happening in the future, in the woods, with fur.

Oh god. Stiles' hand moved faster over his cock. What the hell was wrong with him? The last thing Stiles wanted Derek to feel was doubts or revulsion, but oddly enough, as Stiles mentally looked around to see if he could find any hints of shame. There was an overwhelming sense of peace and belonging at the idea of Derek claiming him like that.

Stiles bent his body forward trying to stop his hand from moving. "Fuck, I'm so close, Derek. Are you about to come too? Are you picturing me sucking you off right now? Sucking you long after you've come deep in my ass? I'd drink it all Derek. I’d drink all your come and everything that came after it. I’d drink it down and love every drop that escaped my lips and ran down my body, because I'd know that you wanted me and marked me as yours." 

Derek groaned so loud and clear, the result of his climax unmistakable. And heaven help Stiles, the feel of it. The completely gone sensation of another mind slipping from extreme agitated bliss to accepted, amazed relief. Stiles leaned back in the tub squelching the water from around his back. The few remaining bubbles rocked in the resulting wave, as Stiles' hand slid once, twice, over his erection. He came louder than Derek, or maybe it was the tiles echoing his guttural whines of pleasure back at him.

"I can't see you, but god. The way that felt Stiles, I'm half hard again."

"Tell me about it." The urge to be held and hold the Alpha, filled Stiles mind 10 times stronger than it was at the beginning of the visit. Derek needed him. He needed Derek. "Fuck this shit." Stiles stood up in the tub carefully on his now sex wobbly legs and climbed out. He patted himself dry too quickly to count as actually doing any good and walked towards the door carrying one of the beach towels from under the sink. "Call Scott back. We need a cock-sitter." 

As soon as Derek let out a small low level howl, Stiles opened the door to see his Alpha sitting naked with come on his thighs, a blindfold secure around his eyes. "We only have a few moments before they come up here with their stupid spray bottles." Stiles sat in Derek's lap, come and all. He wrapped the towel around them before burying his face in Derek's shoulder. The alpha snuggled closer so his lips touched Stiles' neck, his arms wrapped around Stiles' body. They needed this – they needed to feel the tenderness as much as the heated desire. They both deserved more than that.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and Voyeurism in this chapter among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again a huge thank you to my beta [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom) any errors you find are still mine, because I can't leave well enough alone.

 

A new routine solidified quickly. 

Stiles and Derek had to have at least one of the keepers of cock-block water with them if they wanted to talk face to face and even then they both were to wear the blindfolds, so during the day and in the presence of the pack they spoke about the ritual. Would it be strictly pack in attendance? What did the duel portion mean to Derek and Stiles? According to Peter and Deaton Stiles didn't have to tie up Derek. The whole thing was to be a symbolic battle as much as a real demonstration of shared power. Whatever that was to mean to the current incarnation of Hale pack would be up to Derek and Stiles.

They could talk over the phone and via text without supervision, so every night before bed they got into the habit of sending a text message or two with one sexual idea that might not have been seen in the dreams yet. It was Stiles who started it, but in the end Derek didn't discourage the sextperiment, and even initiated a few himself. The idea being that the trance reflected things they both already agreed to, but not individual wants and shouldn't they have a way of talking about those too?

Then there were the mating dreams. Neither spoke during them, much to Peter and Deaton's dismay. Apparently the coupling process flourished with not only the sexual information shared in the dreams but also long talks about the future and the past. Given Stiles and Derek's lives so far, was it any wonder that neither of them wanted to explore the historical terrors of things like Kate and Gerard, or worse the possibilities of losing someone else they loved in a future Alpha skirmish. No, their minds were doing the right thing by defending them from those possibilities. 

Of course these convoluted circumstances frustrated Stiles. "First dates should not involve bondage gear and the rest of the pack watching."

Peter smiled his smile off in his corner, even if Stiles couldn't see it, he knew the older wolf wore that smirk as he explained, "Most suitable prospective mates would be from another pack. As per usual, another pack was a good distance away. A link via dreaming to get to know each other before a bonding was crucial to the adaptation and comfort of a mate being brought into a new territory. Especially for that of an Alpha who's mate needs to be strong and stable."

"I get that, but it doesn't make it any easier to believe that all of these pairs didn't give into their instincts and went running off to meet their mates earlier than the full moon." Scott argued.

Stiles sighed and continued where Peter left off. He had done much more research into the issue that was now his life. "They do, now that chastity before marriage isn't as big of thing. They break the rules all the time when both mates are wolves. The danger's still there. One of them could get carried away in the heat of the moment and kill the other, but usually they both heal from the injuries inflicted." Stiles absentmindedly stroked the blindfold over Derek's eyes. Curled up with the Alpha on the couch he could feel the tension in Derek's shoulders at the implications of harming each other. "The problems come up when one of the mated pair is human. Some wolves lock themselves up during the process, not trusting their control. Others use the cock-block water and rely on the pack to protect them."

“You two have no idea what you look like right now." Isaac's voice seemed to coo in their direction.

"What? Derek's lap's fucking comfortable, alright?" It wasn’t Stiles' fault that he preferred to stay wrapped around the alpha every time they were within a few feet of each other. The Alpha needed touches as reassurance. (Maybe Stiles did too.)

_____________

**> Have you ever licked yourself off in wolf form?**

**> You can reach it like that right? **

 

**> Yes.**

  

**> Is it wrong that I think that's incredibly hot and I want to watch you do it?**

 

**> No. **

**> I want to watch you finger yourself open for me.**

**> Have you done that before?**

  

**> Even if I hadn't, I would now.**

_____________

_Having his legs held up, spread wide while lying on his back isn't the first position Stiles thinks of as sexy. He's vulnerable in every way imaginable. The stretch of his muscles pulls from his back down his thighs. He's trembling just to stay like this and that's even with the help of Derek's hands holding him open. Yet here he is about to come his brains out with every lick of Derek's tongue to his ass. And Stiles means his whole ass. Derek takes his time to lick every patch of skin. Every dip and crevice gets the same scrubbing of wet muscle. Hip to hip, front to back, Stiles never imagines a rim job like this and technically he isn't sure this counts as such. Sure Derek licks at his hole. The Alpha strays back to it regularly watching how Stiles squirms at the attention, but the rest of it is meticulously detailed, like Stiles ass is being prepared for formal use._

_Stiles also isn't prepared for how sensitive certain places seem to be. Like the dip where his ass meets his back. That small curve makes him shiver when Derek's mouth covers it. The lighter touches to that area drive his hips forward and if he weren't folded in half for Derek to reach that spot, he's pretty sure he would come all over his own face._  

_Then there's his left ass cheek. Maybe Derek finds a mole or gets hungry or something, because he bites down on the same spot over and over, never too hard and always in passing, but he bites it in such a perfect way that Stiles whimpers every time._

_Matching suckling bruises are created ever so slowly where his ass meets thigh, in the dead center of the back of each leg. No teeth are used to make the marks, just Derek's tongue and mouth sucking deliberately at the skin, worrying it between his lips. Stiles does his best not to move. He doesn't want this to stop, like ever. He doesn't even care if the marks are huge and painful in the morning, because right now they feel amazing. They tingle up his spine and around to his cock at the same fucking time, and gods, his body never felt so worshiped and strung out._

_____________

"Do you think my dad will want to be at the ceremony?" Stiles just recently explained the whole werewolves in Beacon Hills thing. He wasn't quite sure how to broach the invite to the mating in the woods or even if it would be appropriate. His dad might not want to see whatever sexy times Derek and him came up with for the main event.

"If you like we can have a small wedding for family and friends." Derek's voice and posture gave nothing away. He might have even come off as annoyed at the idea of having to throw an additional celebration to the "Duel", but Stiles felt the painfully shy trepidation behind the bravado. It melted Stiles into a pile of goo.

"Oh My God. Could you be any cuter?" Stiles leaned in and hoped he got to kiss Derek on his stubbled cheek instead of his nose. Stupid blindfolds. "Thank you, Sourwolf. Of course I'll marry you."

The red-headed goddess cleared her throat. "Good. Now that that's done, I'll order the cake and flowers. I already booked the Country Club for the reception. Seriously there's a six month wait for that. Danny got one of those Church of the Whatever On-line thingies so he could perform the ceremony. Your tux selection appointments at Feruard’s are next week. Of course, with a two hour gap between them. Can't very well have you going to the best tailor within 50 miles wearing your fetish gear." Lydia took a deep breath before continuing to rattle off instructions that Stiles didn't pay much attention to. He was busy smelling the homey warmth coming from the Alpha. Who knew warmth had a smell? 

_____________

Stiles texted Derek a photo of himself with his ["Booty Bandit"](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41-avefMvZL._SL500_SS500_.jpg) firmly in place.

**> Do you like toys?**

 

 **> Yes** Came back with a photo of Derek's cock encased in a purple [Fleshlight](http://www.lipskisstits.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/buy-a-fleshlight-vortex.jpg).

_____________

_Stiles is face down with Derek deep in him. Come drips down his thighs, as his ass grips Derek's finally softening cock. He doesn't want to let it go. He loves the sensation of being filled too much and wonders why anyone could fear anal sex when it feels so good. Is it really fear of the unknown that prevents people from exploration? Isn't that he's captain of the S.E.X. Enterprise going on an adventure through kinky-space, but then again maybe he is going where no man had gone before. Werewolf sex under the full moon isn't exactly common._

_Derek is in his human form as he's pulling out. Again neither of them says a word but Stiles knows he's being watched. He doesn't have to look back to know eyes are on his butt clenching at the sudden loss. He feels Derek's hands hold him open, spread his cheeks so there's a proper display of the come leaking slowly out._

_A grunt of approval sounds as if to say "job well done" or "Stiles well fucked". Then a snout presses near to Stiles' hole. Another inspection. But Derek isn't in wolf form. Stiles realizes this is the pack. They surround them and each is carefully allowed to confirm Derek's claim. One at a time they walk up to Stiles to sniff or lick at his hole. It's the light licks that get warning growls from Derek, but overall it's a successful mating._

_____________

"So what you're saying is that you love Derek and you’re going to marry him?" his father surprised Stiles with his calmness. 

"Not quite that simple. 'We've realized we sort of belong together' is I think the better way to say it."

"Hmmm. And why isn't Derek here with you to tell me about his 'belonging' with you'?"

"He's outside with Scott. We're invoking old fashioned, moral ideals and not seeing each other before the wedding." Stiles tried to play the prudence angle up, and not mention the reasons for it.

Unfortunately his dad didn't buy the act and knew Stiles kept something from him. "Stiles." The warning written deep into the tone of his father's words had Stiles flinching. 

The Sheriff waited for an explanation. _And it had better be good_ , was implied from the glare before folding his arms.

____________

 **> I think I'm developing a kink for blindfolds.** Derek texted first.

 

 **> Officially requesting that as part of tonight's dream sequences.** They'd recently dreamt of the mating night in multiform forms, so Stiles wanted to change things up a bit. They already faced enough pressure with choosing how to do it. They didn't need the added bonus of every imaginable exhibitionistic wolf orgy.

 

**> You know we can't quite control that.**

 

**> This whole thing is about possibilities.**

**> We can try to go to bed thinking about it.**

_______________

 _Stiles can't see. He smiles at the idea, not remembering why that's such a good thing. A very good thing. There's soft damp fur hovering over his face. He smells the musty flavor of sweaty animal and pine. The ticklish underbelly of gentle hairs brush his lips. The fur is too soft and warm to be from anywhere else on Derek's body and the noise of claws click against the linoleum, all four paws surrounding._  

_Stiles can't see the room. His guesses aren't ever accurate enough to ever be correct, but they add a certain level of excited mystery to the fun. Maybe Derek comes back from a run and pushes Stiles down to the kitchen floor. Maybe Stiles likes to give wolfy Derek a bath and the wolf is having none of it today. Maybe they're in the basement with all the equipment Derek bought to keep the wolves and Stiles in line. The reasons for the cold plasticy tiles flood his mind, and in every scenario Derek ends up as he is now, grumbling warm, dominating a flat on his back Stiles._

_The tip of Derek's still sheathed wolf cock rubs Stiles' lips. He tastes it so many times, the thick meaty texture is memorized. Stiles nuzzles it with his lips and chin, raising up enough to greet it, but careful not to move the rest of his body. The Alpha's huge form doesn't reach that far even with Derek's impressive monster junk which means the wolf is lowering his hips, squatting over Stiles' face. A grin hits Stiles as his lips make repeated contact. They kiss it with near gentle reverence because what is this but an offering. Chaste little kisses that tease back  down to balls. It's there that Stiles finally licks out with his tongue. Derek grunts and Stiles feels the body of his mate getting closer, lowering itself more for better access. The heated cock pushes out slowly. It's weight falling on top of Stiles' head._

_And what is Stiles about to do like this? Is he going to suck the wolf's fur covered nuts and then lick the the animal's ass as it almost sits on Stiles face?_

_'Please.' Part of his brain begs to suck at Derek's hole like this, to tongue fuck the wolf._

_Just as his mouth gets close enough to taste the edge of it, the wolf shifts back dragging his fully extended leaking cock down Stiles' face._

_The tip forces it's way into Stiles' mouth. It's rough in speed, but smooth heat on his parting lips. Stiles likes the urgency of Derek as if what they were about to do made the Alpha's need to come so desperate that he couldn't wait any more and had to fuck Stiles' face. It makes Stiles imagine what it would be like if he was allowed to go longer than only one lick at the wolf's ass._

_Wimpering keening noises join that of the claws scratching the shit out of the floor. All of it's coming from Derek, who pushes harder and harder to the roof of Stiles' mouth and the back of his throat until hot wet seed empties._

_____________

Jackson took too much pleasure brandishing his ~~spray bottle~~  water gun. "Yuck. Stop that you jerk face. Derek's not even here." Stiles took a quick look around to make sure the Alpha wasn't in the food court.

"No he's not here, but you almost went all weirdo-sex-zombie, and you humping into your panda-wok special is something both me and the 4th graders sitting behind you don't need to see."

"I can't help it. Deaton said it might get worse the closer to the full moon we got, and now apparently any time Derek and I think about sex at the same time, we sort of…" It was far from the Horny-trance-thing, but it destracted Stiles from whatever he currently did enough to be noticeable. Twice during his tux fitting that afternoon he had to be nudged back to reality and ignore his cock.  

"I don't care nor do I need to know," Jackson said as he sprayed Stiles one more time for good measure. "Just quit it." 

"Fine," Stiles stole another curly fry from Isaac's plate. Curly fries and General Tso's created magnificent art in his mouth - moan worthy art that unfortunately got him another spurt from douchebag Jackson's gun.

_______________

Because if he was going to cross the bestiality lines with Derek, why not cross them all?

**> You ever thought of me topping your wolf?**

 

**> Yes. But we won't do it. Too dangerous.**

 

**> We could dream it though?**

 

**> "Possibilities"**

_____________

_Stiles wonders where he is. There's snow all around him. Maybe it's sand. He's not sure. Derek's wolf snuggles to his side. The sun sets comfortably, making the sky above him swirl orange. Stiles waits for it, the sexy times that should start any moment. He knows there was something they were going to do different tonight, but can't recall what it is. Instead they lay companionably next to each other enjoying the remaining warmth of the sun in contrast to the cool white powder below them. Derek might even be asleep. And doesn't that beat all? They only have a few more days of shared experimental sex dreams and the Alpha's taking a nap._

_Stiles wiggles a little, and for the first time ever in any of the dreams he moves his arms so they wrap around the resting wolf. He's still not quite aware of his hands but his arms move. The wolf purrs a pleased response. They've gotten closer in the last week or two. Hard not to when nearly every moment, waking or unconscious, is consumed with finding ways to be together._

_____________

“I just realized we've never made out and yet we're planning a mating ceremony and a wedding. Well, not really a wedding, Lydia is planning the wedding." Almost exactly a month after the Duel, too. "I wonder if the full moon will affect the wedding guests much. You're inviting other packs to that one, right? Do you think it should be moved to a new moon night? Lydia would be pissed, but really I don't want to start a war with some…"

Lips covered Stiles'. They were soft and warm and unlike in his dreams Stiles could touch back. He could guide his fingers through Derek's hair; trace that stubbled superhero jaw line. The more he thought about it, the more he had to assume Derek's jaw line is what he fell for first. How could he not? Every comic book in his room had the same profile of the same strong face, a Viggo face, a Derek face. Stiles pulled back to murmur about how much he liked Derek's face.

"I wasn't sure you'd want to do anything while we were like this." Derek said before Stiles could side track the conversation away from the extremely important kissing thing.

"Why not?" Stiles stole another short peck to Derek's stubble.

"We have an audience, Stiles."

Stiles liked the way Derek's body hugged him. He used to think all that muscle would be too uncomfortably hard to curl up with, but Derek's body surprised him with snuggle worthy warmth. "We'll have an audience for the Duel." Stiles said as his tickled his own nose against Derek's jaw. "And won't that be a bit more than lips, hands, and blindfolds."

"Erica, turn off the damn phone." Derek growled.

"Stupid werewolf hearing." Erica grumbled off to Stiles' left. "I'm the one doing you guys the favor here. I'm recording all this for when you get old and want some spank material."

 _Old? This_ _was a forever thing wasn't it?_ Stiles had been so caught up in the moment of feeling everything about Derek that he didn't really get a chance to appreciate the no-take-backsies going on around him. Funny that his mouth-to-brain filter said the following with pride, "When he's 80, I won't need a video of Derek as he is now. He's going to be the sexiest octogenarian the world has ever known and by then I won't have teeth to get in the way when I want to blow him. So it all works out."

Erica snorted out a laugh while Derek grinned into Stiles' neck. "I'll need to be sexy to keep up with my younger, hotter boy."

Stiles' eyes widened behind the mask at being called 'boy'. The word would have meant little without the rumbling inflection and the emphasized possessive lust coming off of the Alpha. It shifted something in Stiles from an easy comfort to a dick hardening intrigue. God, he would give anything to see what Derek looked like at that moment. Maybe Erica was right to record them. His lust fed Derek's and Derek's lust fed Stiles. Watching the smutty feedback loop would have been super hot. Instead, he settled for living in the epicenter of their sexual need. They kissed again and this time without stopping for stubble appreciation. Makeout session achieved.

_______

 **> Dad appreciates my new body art. **Hickies ran down Stiles' neck from his right ear to his collar. His dad was not impressed, especially with the one that looked like the bat signal. Stiles actually was proud of that one and said as much to everyone he met on the way home including his dad.

 

 **> The pack likes the new smell of my couch.** Erica got a damn good show, and she did forward the video to Stiles. He baked her cookies after his 4th time watching it.

 

**> SAT question: Stiles is to boy as Derek is to?**

 

**> Not Strider**

 

**> Scott shall die.**

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Voyeurism. So much more I'm adding it as a tag. Thank you to my beta [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom). Any errors you find are still mine, because I can't leave well enough alone.

"We've eliminated sex toys then? Both standard and magical?" Who the hell knew there were magical sex toys? Stiles didn't, but apparently there were all manner of handmade ritual claiming 'tools'. Researching, Stiles even found a recipe for making a rowan fertility anal plug. How it worked? Stiles had no idea, well he had an idea of how to use an anal plug, but how fertility was involved considering the drawing depicted the mounter wore the device while sexing up the mountee was anybody’s guess. Perhaps the ultimate top in the ritual had to be the magic.

Derek grunted a little below him, so Stiles used his Mate Translate App for Derek's lack of words. It was an affirmative type of grunt with a touch of resignation, like Derek agreed about the no toys but kind of regretted the decision. "It's okay to change your mind. Do you want to use one of them?" They had narrowed the list of options down to three before scratching the idea last night, but once again conversations over the phone limited communication quality. It was like using a cell in the 90's with a limited coverage area versus having a direct, dedicated Skype connection. Derek's desires could have been addressed by now if they were near enough to each other for the bond to broadcast emotions.

Luckily Stiles had suspicions about which toy his future hubby wanted, and although Deaton would need to help him make it, Stiles wasn't opposed to the item's addition to the festivities. On the contrary, it would make certain aspects of the night much easier.  "You want me to wear number 3?"

A warm bashful hum crossed their bond at the same time Stiles felt a soft rumble from Derek's core. 10 to 1 odds the Alpha even blushed a little. "Oh. My. God. I will never get over how cute you are. Like never." 

Derek gave a warning growl that was all for show, since Stiles noticed the happy preening behind it. His mate lived to be a ball of mixed messages, angry tough guy on the outside, shy loving puppy on the inside. It made sense. Outwardly, the Alpha's weaknesses never existed. Even in this Duel where Stiles needed to prove himself worthy to the pack and to his mate, he could not cross certain lines. Derek had to always be considered strong.

Stiles petted down the side of Derek's face. _He must be so tired of maintaining the facade_ , not that Stiles thought Derek lacked anything in the way of power. He trusted Derek to kick asses while Stiles took names. They would be amazing together, but where Stiles could say everything he felt, Derek had to be cautious. His pack looked up to him and needed his vigilant strength as an anchor.

Stiles wiggled his butt a little in Derek's lap, readjusting himself so his nose rested comfortably in Derek's neck. He might have been denied the sight of his Alpha, but Stiles would be damned if he had to stop sniffing him.

Derek tensed a little before whispering to Stiles. "Your dad's here."

"I'll take over the watch from here, Scott." The Sheriff said almost immediately after Derek's warning.

Stiles’ head snapped up at the sound of his father's voice. It was one thing to talk mystical sex toys with Scott in the room. The revenge factor of being able to over-share delighted Stiles to no end. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I spoke with Deaton after our last talk. I wanted more information about what my son got into."

This was the first time his father saw him like this with Derek. Stiles wasn't ashamed of the way they interacted. He actually thought it was kind of cool now that the initial shock of things wore off. Who else could say they knew so much about a person before they got married? Who else got to share such a detailed bond? That being said, Stiles also knew how it looked. He sat in his fiancé's lap while both of them wore matching leather eye covers.

Derek must have sensed Stiles’ distress, because the wolf began to rub small swirling patterns into Stiles lower back. The distraction grounded Stiles enough to keep talking, but not enough to get turned on like both he and the Alpha had been a little too eagerly doing of late.

"Detail about the dangers of this would have been helpful Stiles. I realize it might not have been comfortable for either of us to talk about the ritual, but you should have told me about needing to add a spray bottle to my holster." 

Derek quietly whispered into Stiles' ear. "He's not mad. He's teasing you to get a reaction. He wants you to be okay."

Stiles needed to figure out how to deliver an effective blindfolded eye roll before all of this was over. Obviously his father influenced the type of man he ended up with. Say one thing surly, yet mean another thing nice. Decades growing up with the sheriff, Stiles didn't always fall for it, but being vulnerable like this with Derek, unable to see his father's face, he got fooled a little by the edge to his dad's words. 

Stiles shifted again, grabbing Derek's arm and wrapping it tighter around his middle. _Secure. Safe._ They echoed back and forth to each other through the bond. A brief little reassurance thing had cropped up between them. At first it happened out of necessity, but at this moment it felt almost like a natural response. Instinctive. The couple had come a long way and Stiles sent his pride at that development back to Derek.

"It's okay Dad. We're okay." Stiles smiled into Derek's arms.

_______

Stiles' dad wasn't going to be in attendance for the ritual, but would walk Derek and Stiles down the aisle at the Wedding. (Wedding with a capital "W" from now on, due to Lydia's 'epically bountiful help'.) Also Lydia, Danny, and Allison would not be in direct attendance for the Duel. They were potential formal mates to wolf pack members.  That part kind of shocked the shit out of Stiles. With all of the open declarations of love going on between the established couples, subconsciously none of them had reached the same level of commitment he and Derek initiated without even trying? Anyway, apparently the ritual, even the tamed down version Stiles and Derek had worked through, wasn't without risk. There would be fewer controls in place and if any of the wolves sensed danger towards their potential mate, things could get messy. Instead the humans of the pack would be set up in perches far enough away from the proceedings to not get caught up in them, but close enough to witness it and protect the pack during the ceremony from outsiders.

"So we have the Duel squared away. Where are we going to live?" Stiles said as he straddled Derek's lap facing away from him. "I'd also like to know if I should finish school. I know what my dad will say and I know what you'll say, but I don't need it. I love to learn but I like learning things that I'm interested in, and for the pack. Aside from a degree in mystical folklore which is useless for a real job, or criminology, again useless unless I want to go into law or law enforcement, I don't have anything I want to study."

"Finish it. Do it on-line." Derek snuffled into the back of Stiles' neck.

"You'd miss me if I went back?" Stiles smirked knowing the answer. Cheesy over the top song lyrics now applied to them. Wind blew beneath the Alpha's fangs. The light, the heat, they were complete and lost control in the other's eyes. Oxygen somehow hardened in his lungs without Derek in the room. Stiles had a million of them because their hearts would go on in the sappiest, most puke inducing ways.

Derek flicked him in the back of the ear for song lyric shinanagans then admitted with an angry growl, "I missed you before the bond." The reminder of Stiles being gone pissed the Alpha off. 

"I'm not going anywhere." Stiles sighed back into the renewed touch of Derek tracing his hands reassuringly down his mate's body to his thighs.  Light, absentminded fingers liked contact. Neither man meant to get the other horny...Hornier, because a constant low buzz of want ran through them at all times now, and boy-oh-boy did Stiles want. He shimmied his hips down experimentally over Derek's partial stiffy. 

"Do you think Boyd would mind?" Stiles all but panted. He didn't need to say it that way, but he wanted everyone to understand what he was asking. A pointed desire to get off sat on the table and there were four people in the room, one of which he wanted to share directly in his orgasm-y good time. Erica already saw them hump each other silly. She would be on board with the direction of the room. "Boyd's vote counts in this."

Of all of their naughty nannies, Boyd respected their privacy most. He all but blended in with the background and said as little as possible. Stiles couldn't even recall a time when the deliciously dark mocha skinned wolf sprayed them with the cockblock water. There was no way they would violate that kind of loyalty by making the pack member uncomfortable. Sure it would have taken immense control on both his and Derek's parts to stop their sexy time. Stiles might've even asked for the stupid hell water to assist in de-boning. 

The usually unassuming wolf cleared his throat as if asking permission to enter the conversation. "I don't mind." Boyd's voice sounded off, deeper. Less in control.

"From what I can smell of the room, Stiles, I think they want us to." Derek whispered into Stiles neck, a little set of licks following his words. Each was short. He took pleasure in tasting, cleaning, and marking Stiles.

"Kinky ass Werewolves are kinky." Stiles rolled his eyes behind his mask before grinding his hips against Derek's length again. This time the full extent of Derek's shaft rubbed his clothed ass. He titled his head back at the sensation, his neck bared, head resting on Derek's shoulder. More licks came between light nibbles to the exposed area. 

The room moaned. 

"Holy shit," Stiles muttered. Bad enough to have the wolf behind him on some amplified mystic sex loop, but now there was a participating audience. Would this be what it was like at the ritual? Would the others get involved to this extent? Would they get off while watching? In Stiles’ and Derek's dreams they sometimes did. Neither broached that subject with the pack. They were to be present at the main event. Stiles and Derek didn't think it fair to assume participation in any other form, and if Stiles learned anything from this process, it was to never assume anything. Ask all the questions, even the uncomfortable ones. Why didn't he think to apply that to the pack? Shouldn't they have been asked about what they wanted at the ceremony?

Boyd and Erica sat on the floor across from the Alpha and his mate. That was really all of their positions Stiles could tell. Usually the couple liked to sit on the floor with Boyd opening his legs and Erica curling into the V. Stiles briefly pictured it now, the two of them watching the uncoordinated lap dance sans music, the two of them getting off to every twist of his hips.

Stiles bit his bottom lip when he felt Derek's fingers lift up the hem of his shirt. The direct contact of the pads of fingers to his lower abdomen and edge of his jeans pushed him down harder, possessively. 

 _“Mine”_ , the Alpha declared with every thrust up to meet Stiles’ ass, every suckling lick to Stiles’ neck nearly raw. Fucking hell it felt good. Derek wanted him so damn much. It might have registered as the meaning of Derek's life to throw Stiles down and fuck him, to hold him that way till the world stopped. Stiles could get on board with the sentiment. He really could.

More moans filled up the room from both couples. Especially Stiles. There was no helping it. Derek did impressive things to him that Stiles didn't want to stop. Stiles had his fingers in Derek's hair, encouraging him to continue marking his neck. The other hand laced just as possessively with one of the Alpha's. They were on a mission to palm over Stiles cock as many times as it took to come spectacularly in his pants.

Erica let loose a debauched keening noise that would have made any porn star jealous. Boyd grunted once, and then in a repeated slow steady rhythm that left nothing to the imagination of what they were doing. 

NO fucking fair. 

Derek apparently agreed because the over the pants action shifted to taking Stiles' pants off action, for which Stiles had never been more grateful. Odd too, since Stiles would be completely exposed to his pack for the first time (while awake). Derek felt too damn good against his skin, so he apparently didn't give a hot horny damn about it. 

Stiles made quick work of unfastening the Alpha's jeans and pulling his cock free before sitting bare assed against it. 

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good."

Derek's hand wrapped around his cock and Stiles cried out in pleasure from the contact. Fierce slaps of skin with faster heated grunts echoed before him. All seemed to be close to that point of the sex video called the money shot. Especially Derek, who must have taken it as a point of pride that his mate's body warranted his pack's loss of control.

The Alpha bit at Stiles' neck with purpose now. " _Mine!_ ” The action all but screamed in Stiles' mind. And if that wasn't enough, the warning growl of complete ownership said it loud and clear. Stiles was Derek's. 

In true gentlemanly fashion, it was ladies first. Erica moaned low, tight and in frightening contrast to what Stiles had expected of her climax. Not that Stiles ever thought of it before, but if he had and if Derek's cock wasn't brutally rubbing up against his ass he would have made better note of the sounds coming from Erica. She was likely to be the last female he would ever hear like this. 

Boyd howled. No shit. No lie. The man let out a damn howl of total satisfaction. It startled the hell out of Stiles at first but then Derek was there soothing him and it made sense that a wolf would howl when claiming, especially if the claiming was before his Alpha. Stiles began to re-imagine the whole Duel ceremony as a bacchanal type orgy where every mated pair fucked and howled into the night. "Shit." He didn't want to come quickly. He and Derek didn't have much physical time together, even less sexually, and Stiles didn't want this to go so damn fast, but the smell mixing with the mental and physical sex-shows going on undid every ounce of his control. Derek's…everything was usually more than enough to get Stiles off. What was he to do in these circumstances but to lean forward into one final tug of his cock and cry out his orgasm?

Derek's dick pulsed victoriously seconds later below an overstimulated ass and balls, like he was the anchor to the olympic 400m relay or something.

"And now we need to re-discuss what exactly the pack will do that night." Stiles euphorically giggled out as Derek playfully bit his ear. Sex highs were fun.

________

"What the hell?" Jackson balked as he walked into the loft. He and Lydia were the last to arrive, but not the first to comment on the smell of the place. Febreeze and a quick set of showers didn't really cover up much to were-noses.

"Judging from the looks on everyone's faces, I would say this is the sex meeting I was expecting a week ago." Lydia pointed out.

"Correct as always." Peter chimed in from his corner. "I thought this wouldn't happen at all. They were so totally wrapped into each other. I suppose a thank you is needed for Erica and Boyd's activities."

"What sex meeting?" Scott asked with all the innocence and trepidation a good friend should have. It was him Stiles was most worried about in this. If everyone didn't agree to be part of the altered festivities then they would happen as orignally planned and this conversation would be tabled. 

Derek spoke up. It was rare for him to do it, but somehow Stiles knew that this should come from the Alpha. "It's come to our attention that while witnessing our union the pack may wish to participate in less passive ways. I still will have none of you touching Stiles," The shiver running up Stiles spine meant the Alpha flashed his eyes red while saying that last bit. God, that machismo cave-man shit turned Stiles on. He was man enough to admit he liked it. The possessive nature of the wolf didn't stop Stiles from saying what he wanted or being his own person. In fact, all of Derek now existed for him. The pack was important too, but all of Derek, not the Alpha, belonged to Stiles.  

"You might feel the need to touch each other during such an intimate atmosphere." The Alpha continued.

"And orgy?" Isaac sounded a little too hopeful in his question. The curly haired wolf must have realized it too because he back tracked quickly. "I mean we already have the potential human mates positioned for their safety further away from the Duel. I don't understand what you mean?"

"That's what we're here to discuss. What will be acceptable for the pack and what won't. Derek and I already know what we will do, but now we need to make sure whatever happens between the rest of you is also okay." Stiles said from his permanent position on Derek's lap. Swear his ass must have had an "Alpha Lap Magnet"™ installed. Stiles imagined the packaging and marketing campaign for such a device. "Is it Glue? Is it Duck tape? No. It's the Alpha Lap Magnet. Get your ass stuck today!" Stiles realized he said that part out loud when the room got quiet, all but Derek who was cracking up behind him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now want an unrelated one shot fic featuring Peter or Lydia casting an "Alpha Lap Magnet" spell on Stiles' ass. Anyone can feel free to write it and send it back my way for the good times of it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sex will be back next chapter. Promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom). Any errors you find are still mine, because I can't leave well enough alone.

Deaton wasn't exactly Dr. Drew, but in this case he was all the wolves of Beacon Hills had, and while Stiles understood all the details, he needed expert reassurance.

"So we'll be safe after?" Stiles knotted the strands of fiber in his hands. He sucked at braiding but Deaton insisted on this ridiculous pattern at the center of everything. 

"You'll both be safe. There hasn't been a documented case of injury between fully mated pairs in recorded history, at least not from what you're asking." The witch doctor said this while handing off the blessed items needed to twist the remaining parts together. 

"I feel like I'm finally tall enough to ride Space Mountain. I guess I'm a little nervous."

"You need to think of the future good when you create this, Stiles." Deaton sighed out the warning like he had been put upon for doing things way out of his 'veterinary' scope. "The ceremony is just a marking point. You and Derek spent time building the trust needed to be secure with each other." 

"That's really just a fancy way to say we can get freaky any time of the month and anyway we like without being hospitalized."

"And isn't that important when dealing with two animals that are instinctually out to procreate and survive?"

Stiles felt a little offended. Sure he wanted sex, but to parse his life down to nothing but getting by long enough to fuck again felt kind of wrong. It also brought up a niggling worry in the back of his mind. Something about this whole bond being about sexual compatibility more than emotional attachment or love. Derek still hadn't said he wanted Stiles in an ‘I love you till the end of time’ kind of way. Not that Stiles expected romantic happily-ever-afters. There were no bi-sexual magical werewolves in Disney, but he hoped LOGO would make one someday. "Humans are more than that, so are werewolves."

"Not really. Both are animals with dangerous instincts. They hunt for mates that will provide the best chance for successful procreation, and they defend territory for their tribe or pack." Deaton paused looking up at Stiles for emphasis and handed him the polished stone. "There's nothing wrong with instinct. It serves all animals well." 

"What the hell kind of stone is this anyway? You couldn't have had the rosewood quartz just lying around." Stiles changed the subject when things got uncomfortable, an easy habit when his mind liked to jump around any way.

"We've been planning this mating since as Peter described, 'Derek dry humped you in the guise of trying to get a remote control back.' That incident was three months ago. I've had plenty of time to acquire whatever items needed."

Stiles did a quick scan of his memories and couldn't pin point one specific time Derek had humped him, dry or otherwise. Sure they playfully wrestled a bit here or there when situations warranted, i.e. Stiles getting on Derek's ever loving nerves, but he's pretty sure he would have recalled Mr. Sex-on-legs doing something as wonderful as grinding away at him for a remote. In fact Stiles probably would have stolen said piece of electronics every time he went …to Derek's. Okay, so Stiles kind of bogarted the remote when he went to the Alpha's den, but Derek didn't …um. "Were we really that bad?" 

"Stiles, there's such things as flirting, and there is also such things as foreplay. You and Derek crossed that line almost every time you touched, and that was when you visited my offices on business. I can only imagine what it was like for the pack when you both felt secure at Derek's."

_________

 _The tickle under his noise isn't pleasant_. _For some reason he thinks it should be, but it's not. There's an acrid fetid layer and Stiles fails to open his eyes against it. The tickles turn to stronger wafts of something familiar and yet distant. He knows this smell from when he was young and he shakes his head, trying to forget._

_Puffy, pale faces below turban wrapped bald heads, attached to emaciated bodies that can't hold food anymore. Cancer has a sense of fashion to it. It's distinct look could not be mistaken for anything else. His father warns him about it repaetedly. "Don't be frigtened of what she looks like." What they never tell him about is the smell. Dying people smell like their dying. It can't be washed off. He knows his dad and Mrs. McCall try. They do their best to make it so his mom never looks like she's not going to make it, but the smell of death lingers._

_Stiles silently cries in the darkness from the last remaining scent of his mother._

_Or not so silently, as whimpering little cries that don't even sound like they belong to him sing in his mind. Ash. Smoke. Charred, cooked meat over an open oddly chemical wood flame. Stiles stomach rolls in realization. Derek's smell of death is different. Every plastic toy in the nursery, every book in the library, every pleasant memory burns to ash along with the majority of his family._

_The whimpering noise is Derek, his mind shivering in what amounts to raw pain._

_Stiles has to find him. Has to comfort him. They need each other, but he can't move._

_Open his eyes. Open his eyes! Wake the hell up and go to him!_

____________

Stiles sat up in bed much the same way he had the first night he shared a dream with Derek, out of breath and wondering what the hell just happened, but unlike that first night, Stiles got dressed and ran with one shoe on to his jeep. 4 am seemed like a perfectly reasonable time to go for a drive. Even more reasonable if he headed towards the Hale House and not Derek's loft, because he wasn't running towards the Alpha. That would be dangerous, and they weren't going to put each other in danger. To be even more sure of the wolf's safety and his, he parked the car a mile out from the house and briskly walked (ran his ass off) towards a deeper part of the woods, because the woods calmed him - yeah, calmness. That's what he looked for at this moment.

A hand came up from behind him and covered his eyes. Derek's hand. "What're you doing here Stiles?"

"How could I not come to find you after that?" Stiles knew his instincts were leading him to Derek. Even if logic made excuses for him, nothing could mistake the pull of his mate in need.

Derek remained quiet, his breathing hardened, like he'd been running for a while. 

"You were coming to find me too, weren't you?"

Derek again remained quiet, but Stiles appreciated a tug of bashful concern coming from the Alpha.

"I'm okay, big guy." Stiles put his hand over Derek's. "Shift for me. I'll keep my eyes closed. I promise."

"You should go home. The pack'll worry." Derek spoke with stoic resignation covering a spike of fear.

"They won't know we've gone anywhere for a couple of hours still, and I need to be with you. I promise I won't open my eyes. Trust me."

Derek grunted his understanding, but the fear didn't subside. Stiles couldn't tell if the emotion lingered from the prospect of losing control, or sharing their definitions of death. Either way, they both needed something tangible to focus on. "Only till sunrise." The Alpha said.

"Shift for me." The overwhelming sense of dread that hung about Derek like bad garnish at an all-you-could-eat buffet only subsided when he was in wolf form, and right now Stiles didn't want his mate to feel fate's inevitability. 

The hand pulled away from the younger man's face, the sound of bone and skin shifted behind him, and then a muzzle nudged the back of his thigh. As promised, Stiles squeezes his eyes closed tighter, then he turned around finding Derek's face easily with his hands. There was a soft enough pile of leaves and twigs below them, but the wolf pulled at his shirt a little until they were in what felt like a clearer area.

"You don't talk because you once spoke to the wrong person." Stiles slowly moved to his knees burying his face into the warm fur of his…his. Derek was his. "I never shut up because I vowed to never hold back anything I should have said." Stiles laid down on the ground without letting go of the wolf in his arms. "She died the day after I told her I hated her. I lashed out. It had been a year of constant therapy, and I was tired of spending all my days and nights in the hospital when all the other kids got to go home to fresh baked cookies and pre-packed lunches. The memory of pity and saran wrapped vending machine food still pisses me off." Derek snuggled in tighter sending wave after wave of ' _Safe', 'Secure'_. "It was the first night I ever yelled at them. Up until then, I did everything asked of me. In my 10 year old mind, if I was the best son imaginable, there was no way she could leave me." Stiles kept talking as he stroked through the fur. It was the first time he had said any of this to anyone. "The night before she died, I overheard her talking to the doctor about making peace and asking about last rights. I had a full on tantrum. I swore at her and accused her of dying on purpose. I swore at my father for ignoring me and spending all of his time with a woman who gave up on us. He slapped me. It was the first and last time he hit me. Ms. McCall took me home and in the morning, my mom was dead."

"I killed her." The Alpha whined in disagreement before licking the side of Stiles' face. "I know I didn't in the technical sense, but I blame myself for saying the things I never should have when all I really wanted was for her to never leave me."

The right side of Stiles' body warmed completely, as the wolf's breath huffed a few times in Stiles' ear. "I want to be in love with you Derek, so I'm not going to hold back, and I’m not going to lash out at you or say something I don't mean, because I'm just as scared as you that fate will take you away from me if I do." Stiles squeezed harder around the wolf's body. It could barely be called a hug at this point. "I'm going to fight for you. Always."

Fur receded under his fingertips. 

"Awwww, don't shift. If you do, it'll feel like we're saying vows in the moonlight, and I never want to be that disturbingly Bella and Edward."

Soft lips touched his. They were sweet with all the promise of newspapers on iPads, big bowls of frosted flakes, and similar kisses given happily every Sunday morning from now until the end of time.

"I already love you, Stiles."

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. One more chapter to go and it's a tad lengthy so it make take longer to get to you, apologies in advance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta!

 

They don't rut against each other after their heartfelt declarations. That would have been crass. Besides Stiles had only reveled in the "I Love You Already" moment for like 10 seconds. He could hold out grinding up into a very naked Derek if it meant basking in the deserved romantic after glow. He could hold out for at least a good 15, maybe even 20 full seconds of this admittedly deliriously giddy feeling.

"Stiles..." Derek growled a warning that only made the younger man's growing erection that much worse.

"My eyes are closed. I promised I'd keep them closed." Derek's 'Boy' sing-songed. Good gravy on cheesy curly fries, Stiles couldn't wait to be called "boy" again.

"We can't. We only have 2 days left. We can wait."  The alpha whispered.

"Actually we have 38 hours. I'd have it down to the minute but I can't see my phone right now." 

Derek lightly bit his mate's chin. Stiles studied the behavior enough to know what it meant even without the werewolf's almost overt happiness shining through their bond. The action, designed to playfully intimidate, also failed to mask Derek's building apprehension.

"It's ok Sourwolf. We've had a rough night and as much as I want to, I meant what I said earlier. i really do just need to hold you for a few hours." Erections be damned. Stiles mantra'ed his way out of unplanned arousal for the last 2 weeks, or since his nuts dropped soundly from images of a brooding scruffy guy in 3D.  At the moment he mentally chanted obscenities about Clone Wars getting canceled and the benefits of lamaze breathing through hard-ons.

Derek diverted Stiles various trains of thought when he gruffly/bashfully spoke. Stiles needed a new word for his mate's conflicting outward behavior/internal mood. Grashful? Bruff? Whatever he wanted to call it had to be just as cute as his Alpha. "Would shifting back to the wolf help?" 

"Considering I want sex with you in all your forms, in every way possible, I don't think fur will deter me at all." Stiles ran his hands up Derek's back.  "I asked you to change because you relax better all puppied out."

Derek grumbled, but was being bruff about it. Yeah 'bruff' totally worked and was now an official Oxford-Webster-Stilinski word.

"Get wolfy, and let me get my snuggle on before my dad  finds out I gave him the slip." Stiles felt bad about making his dad worry, but Stiles wouldn't trade the last 20 minutes of his life for anything.

___________

_Stiles leg hangs up in the air at an odd angle. His big toe can shield some of the sun or moon from his face. There's no strain in the position. It actually relaxes him. The cool drew coated grass grazes his palms as the sweet smell of forest reminds him of life, of mate. It's like he's supposed to be there waiting like this without a care in the world._

_Claws trace a nearly imperceptible tickling patterned down the back of his exposed thigh, and he can feel the goose pimples rise. He squirms to regain control when his leg tips to the left a little. A nose sniffs behind his knee and licks once. Stiles can't tell how far along the Alpha's shift is, because the tongue that touched him wasn't his wolf. It also wasn't his human, but Stiles isn't worried. He knows it's his mate no matter what form he's in. The recognized sense of belonging is without question, so he doesn't take his eyes off of the sky above him. Instead he does his best to relax more and enjoy whatever other new things come._

_Another lick strokes down his thigh. This time Stiles studies everything about the contact. It's very different from the other dreams, (and it is a dream because he still can't tell if it's day or night, not that he cares). The tingles to his skin are more unhinged from imagination, like something bigger forces past mental defenses and now they touch in a whole new reality._

_It's so good. Stiles moans the all out kind of writhing moans that mean he won't last long. He hopes Derek will tease him a bit, force him to hold out. He's heard of edging and tantric sex. Both are on his list of things he wants to do and in a situation like this where every single touch could easily bring him to orgasm… Yes, please._

_Stiles feels the tips of claws at his raised ankle. The slight strength needed to hold up his leg is gone. Derek has him. He controls every movement as if Stiles is his perfect little doll, a doll shown such devotion and care. Each touch purposefully draws out pleasure. Each twist of fingers testifies to how far gone Derek is on everything Stiles._

_A nose and tongue skim along his calf muscle._

_The weight of the air around them intensifies._

_The first thrust doesn't even take Stiles by surprise, although it really should. It's hungry and urgent with Derek pushing himself inside. There's no warning, no guiding touches to ease the way, but that's ok because this is a fast kind of build to a love that will last. It's a dream of lust that came from something so much more._

_WTF? When the hell did his kinky dreaming mind become such a romantic?_

_Stiles looks at his mate. He will forever be what he is now, half man, half wolf, and somehow not only is this ok, but it's the most perfect thing ever._

___________

Stiles went from never ending "love making", to waking up in his bed next to his father. The man didn't seem happy, but smiled anyway. "Have a good sleep son?"

Stiles looked down and saw he was dressed. The last thing he recalled was snuggling up with Derek in the woods. "Yes?"

"What do you remember?" His father asked.

"Depends on how you define remember."

"I define it as you recollecting where the hell you were last night."

"Um." Stiles deserved the grilling, but he wasn't comfortable with talking with anyone but Derek about last night.  "I left to go find Derek. We, um, had a thing we needed to discuss." 

His father bent down and kissed his forehead with an exasperated sigh. "Fortunately for you, my future son-in-law woke up first and half-assedly explained about a nightmare. Something you could have done before sneaking out, and then had an escort."

"Um… Okay." Freaking police. Always looking for corroborating stories under interrogation before they believe anything. "How did we get back?"

"Tranquilizer gun. I found out you were missing about 30 minutes after you left. Called the adults." Dads way of saying Chris, Peter, Deaton and Mrs. McCall. "Then organized a hunt. We shot you both rather than have an Alpha wolf, or his mate, go feral at the idea of separation."

"You drugged Derek!" Stiles' blood raged. "Don't you think that's a little extreme? Do you know how much crap you have to put into his system to bring him down? Christ. Is he ok?" 

"He's fine. And from your current reaction I think I did the right thing." His father had both hands up staring pointedly at Stiles who was now not only up out of bed, but gripping the front of his father's shirt in a rather threatening way. "You both are too close to the moon to just use spray bottles. And neither of you wore eye protection. What would have happened if we startled you and you looked at each other without thinking?"

"So you shot me and my mate full of drugs to protect us!"

His dad smiled sensing his son was already losing some of his anger. "Yes."

And Stiles deflated by the second. He realized what it must have looked like. Derek and he lost control, snuck off like rampant horny kids to fuck till literally death parted them, but…  "Doesn't make me feel any better about it!" It was his final burst of petulance to his father as an un-mated man. He kind of wanted to be an irrational kid again, if only for a second or two in memory of the moment. Tomorrow he wouldn't have the excuse of being too young, at least it felt that way.

His dad snorted a laugh, clapping him affectionately on the shoulder.  "What you feel right now doesn't matter too much, you're going to be late getting over to Deaton's"

Stiles looked at the clock by his bed. It said 2pm. He had almost a whole day before he had to be at the witch doctor's. His father obviously still wanted to fuck with him, so he flopped back down in the bed, vowing to ignore the man till morning. The drugs still had him tired and his mouth felt like dried dirt. Besides, childish behavior included not getting out of bed when a parent tried to trick him.

"Check the day, not the time Stiles." His dad drolled out.

Sitting ramrod straight up and almost knocking his father off the mattress, Stiles frantically looked for the clock again. This time he noticed the day. He lost 32hrs on his count down to mating. "Damn it!"

___________

Bursting through Doc. Deaton's door only a few minutes late was acceptable to Stiles. He was out of breath and hungry, but considering he was supposed to fast before the ceremony everything sort of worked out.  What wasn't acceptable was the looks on the three that waited for him when he made his entrance, the magic users of the pack.

"You'd think he'd be on time for his own ritual." Lydia snarked. 

"Not like he had a choice in the matter." Peter smirked. "Did you just wake up from one of those pleasant dreams?" 

Deaton, ever the professional, got to the point before Stiles could start a sass war with the rest of the room. "We drew straws without you. I'm going to set up the clearing with the needed wards. These two will help you with the markings and the final lattice work."

Lydia, who always looked radiant in her splendor, had done something extra with her hair. Stiles took a moment to appreciate it. "Did you do that for tonight? I like it." Stiles smiled. It really was pretty. A richer shade of red covered her head, less curls too. Overall it looked more natural and suited the evening very well.

Peter snorted a quiet laugh and turned to go into the room with all of Deaton's magical mojo stuff, while the Doc left hurriedly. 

Lydia, who used to ignore Stiles' compliments at best, seemed miffed at this one. 

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I changed my hair two weeks ago."

"Oh shit." Stiles was about to be at the mercy of this woman for the next few hours, the last thing he wanted to do was piss her off. "I was blindfolded most of that time! How could I have known?" Stiles held up his hands much the same way his father had earlier. "Don't kill me!" 

"You're lucky I like you Stillinski." Lydia said with a predatory smile. "Now get in the other room and take off your pants!"

 _Really? Seriously?_ The world had cosmic funny jokes to play on Stiles' life. He spent over a decade trying to get Lydia to want to see him naked. Finally, when she has to spend the next 2 hours staring at his junk, he's going to spend the entire time getting magically painted in henna in order to werewolf marry the true love of his life.

"Stiles! We don't have all day." Peter sing songed.

Ooooh yeah, and Peter too.

Technically it wasn't so bad. Stiles had a modest sheet(tiny ass towel) covering his essentials. The two in the room with him would need to paint his thighs with the corresponding lattice work to the dream catcher Stiles and Deaton designed. Once done, one of them would have to go to the rest of the pack and draw a similar design on each member. Originally Derek and Stiles weren't going to open themselves magically to the pack for this, but after the Great Sex Accords of 2015, where every possible sexual variation of the pack was openly discussed,  no one really had objections to this level of intimacy.  

The catcher's design amplified the dream states of those about to mate and as soon as Derek had come clean about wanting stiles in item number three, the tattoos seemed to be preordained by the goddess of the kinky moon. During the Duel whatever Stiles or Derek experienced the rest of the pack would share on a similar but different level through the henna markings.  

"I'm pretty sure the moon's kinky. About 87% of all of the moon rituals I found involved sex, and of those, over half involved orgies." Stiles rambled as he shucked off his sweat pants. The werewolf ones were tame compared to some of the human bacchanals, and the Hale Duel, while usually being left open to interpretation for the main event, had been often a simple private matter for the family, and since there wasn't inbreeding along the Hale line, the orgies weren't a thing as such but there were some things that crossed human familial lines. Stiles and Derek weren't taking this much further than what had already been done. A little from column A, a little from column B, a little from the earth mother moon s&m website. 

"Ok Stiles get on the table and hold still for a few hours." Lydia demanded.

Peter laughed at Stiles' sputtering expression. "We can take breaks, there was nothing about having to do it all in one sitting."

"I'm not stopping every 15 minutes to let him run in circles around the room." Lydia said to Peter ignoring Stiles. "This happens in one go." Lydia pulled out her iPad and handed it to Stiles. "Here, figure out whether you want to be waxed or shaved. I listed the pros and cons of each."

Stiles whimpered, while Peter continued laughing.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end. There is lots of sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather than add 20 tags that will give away what happens, I'm adding additional tags for this event to the end of this chapter. If you need to know these things before you read, click the end notes. Thank you to my beta [unrepentantdom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unrepentantdom). Any errors you find are still mine, because I can't leave well enough alone.

_Lydia_

 

Compared to any proper gathering, Deaton's "setup" ranked frightfully subpar. No refreshment area. No music. No real lighting except for a handful of druidically blessed candles and they were only around the makeshift altar. There wasn't even a mirror to touch up after the event. Heaven knew what everyone would look like after copious amounts of very public sex, but at least Lydia had her mirror in her EMT kit (Esthetic & Magical Transformation Kit). Survival depended on her being able to remove blood stains from her Blahniks without raising suspicion.

"What the hell else do you have in there?" Isaac poked at the huge blue canvas bag while keeping his right leg as still as possible. Lydia already threatened to stab him with the henna pen if he moved.

"Things needed when running with wolves. Sutures, antibiotics, pain meds, and nearly a full cosmetic line to hide all the bruising." She also had flares, nylons, hair care products, and a periodic table of magical herbs, but she liked to remind the wolves of humans’ vulnerability as often as possible. Not that she didn't think she could take care of herself in a fight, it was just the backup of protective wolves seemed so much nicer, cleaner.

Isaac changed the subject as expected, "Do I really have to be nude for this?"

"Considering your reaction to the prospect of an orgy, I don't see why you're worried. Besides, all of you run naked in the woods every full moon. It's nothing the pack hasn't seen before."

"That's different." Boyd spoke up. The other werewolf was already bare from the waist down to give Lydia easier access to his thighs. "We don't run naked to meet up and have sex."

"Well, tonight you are." Lydia dead panned while putting the final touches to Isaac's dream catcher. "How do you feel Isaac?" These were the last two pack members she needed to draw on. The others reacted noticeably to their additions to the link, and exponentially more powerful each time.

"I'm not sure." The curly haired wolf began breathing heavier. "It almost feels like my first full moon in the intensity of everything, but I haven't lost control either. I actually feel more stable. It's weird." 

"A distinctive yet communal hyper-instinct." Lydia explained. "You all will be linked with Stiles and Derek as the focal points once the Duel is in full swing, and at the moment, you're starting to feel the same pull the happy couple has been sharing since the dreams began, along with the emotional tugs of every pack member already linked to the dream catcher runes."

"Is that why I want to suck Boyd off right now?" Isaac blinked a few times, obviously trying to clear his head.

Boyd raised an eyebrow at Isaac, but didn't shy away. Interesting. "I drew Erica's and Allison's before coming here, and they might be getting closer." Lydia offered as a flimsy excuse. "Besides, we all will have attractions that bridge beyond our known desires." Lydia outright fibbed. Isaac didn't need to worry about who he wanted tonight. None of them did. "Boyd's also very attractive, and flashing his goods. I'd be worried if we didn't lick our lips a little at the sight of him."

Lydia had never seen the mocha skinned boy blush, but there it was, clear as he pleased against the setting sun.

________

 _Peter_.

 

Stiles, as with the rest of the pack, never grew totally comfortable with Peter around. Having attempted to kill over half of them, he couldn't really impose himself even after years of proving his wolf stable. Instead he settled for the remains of the life he'd been given. Such as it was, Derek protected him, and Peter protected the pack in the ways he could, like spotting and preparing for when the Alpha finally chose a mate.

"Do you want me to?" Stiles raised a henna pen toward Peter from the passenger seat. He swiveled the little device in the air pretending to draw.

Peter lived through his own ceremony, his sister's Duel, even other packs that were once close to the Hale's. No. He would not attend. He had no intention of reliving all that he lost in that much detail. A wife and children existed in painful memory, but so did the bitch responsible, and he vowed to himself never to tip the scales of his sanity enough that the grief took control again.

"Much as I'd love to rut the night away, I don't think the others would like it." Peter smirked facing the road.

"You're pack. You have a right to be there, arguably more than anyone else." Stiles paused, probably debating on whether to be a smart ass or continue down this uncomfortable road of sincerity. To Peter's surprise the sincerity won. "Derek needs you."

"Which is why I'll be patrolling the edges of the Duel with the good doctor. Besides, how do you think our loving Alpha will respond when he catches a whiff of my scent in those naughty places I had to touch to get that thing on you?" Peter added a slightly dirty leer for emphasis. The boy had grown into a man, and currently looked like a sexy mystical fertility-god. Painting the henna wasn't so bad, but after Lydia left it became time to help Stiles suit up with all the ropes, vines and that lovely crystal plug. Peter definitely wanted one of those plugs.

"Don't do that. I already had to make up words for what Derek really means when he doesn't say things. I don't want to have to call you a protoperv or something to describe how you get pervy when you feel vulnerable. I meant it when I said Derek needs you. He does."

Sex provided a comfortable shield. A fuck felt good and was most likely the last thing Peter had in his life that would feel good. It was another reason why he could never be at this event. While more than willing to bend over each and every member of this pack with no strings attached, this ritual had nothing but strings. So much so that Stiles literally bound himself in them. 

"I won't leave him." Peter said once again focusing on driving. "Tonight I'm going to protect him, his mate, and the rest of the pack."

"You're afraid to lose us?" Stiles asked as they slowed toward the edge of the preserve.

"No, that was Derek. I've already lost what's most important me." Now, all the former Alpha feared was losing sanity. 

Peter cleared his mind quickly of the past, and focused on the present. He needed to say something before Stiles, the man who could talk more than anyone he'd ever met. "Last stop on the 'Uncle Peter Got Me Laid' Taxi Service." Not his best work, but considering the circumstances it would have to do. 

__________

_Boyd_

 

Getting turned on while watching two incredibly hot people get off, didn't seem to be a problem for Boyd. The discovery of his voyeuristic side flourished with the help of his …whatever the hell Erica was to him. They didn't have titles like that. There was no claim or need for it between them because they were comfortable in simply knowing the other always stood close by.

Or bullshit posturing they both accepted rather than face the possibilities that it wouldn't last forever.

Like right now, where even with Erica right next to him, and after a long run with his pack, he should have been relaxed, but all he felt was anxious. Maybe he reflected the emotional state of his Alpha who currently stalked around naked save for a red inked drawing that seemed to bleed out from the triskellion on his back and wrap around the front of him like an intricate web. Boyd had the passing thought that maybe those lines were the only things holding the Alpha together, because really, his leader never looked more feral. Like part of his mind had left in the last hour of their run. 

Earlier in the day Derek was the first after Stiles to get marked. They began running in the woods after that. Boyd knew all the running was to tire out the werewolves, if only a little before they got hold of human pack mates, but right now, even after hours in the woods, Boyd's body sang with every stroke of Lydia's pen. 

The red haired woman efficiently worked the lines into Boyd's skin, with Erica sitting on his left and partially blocking his view of Derek. Isaac now sat comfortably with Danny no more than a few yards away.

"Erica's trying to get you to mount her." Lydia openly stated as if it wasn't obvious with the way the blond werewolf bent over in front of them. "She has it all laid out for you and yet your eyes keep wandering over to Isaac. Did the idea of him sucking you off get to you?"

Erica's eyes flashed as her arousal spiked. The scent of her already drew out parts of Boyd that he couldn't control. He didn't like being out of control. Things like voyeurism and now whatever tonight would be, it all felt too out of control. These were things Boyd never would have done before the pack. He's not an exhibitionist. Sure, he could run through the woods naked, that was just like the locker room. It meant nothing. But this was something intimate. What would it mean when it ended? 

Confused as to where to look, apprehensive about what would happen, especially after the way Isaac and Lydia looked at him, what would Erica want to do? How far would she like to go? Stiles and Derek were the only pack mates his wolf saw as a threat to them being together but with Derek's edict about no one touching Stiles and Derek being behind the barrier, Boyd's wolf seemed to want this, but did Boyd? Or did he need to belong so badly he was willing to do anything to get it?

_A flash of Isaac's mouth open and wet around his cock has Boyd blinking back a sigh of want._

What the hell was that? His cock was hard in his hand and Erica's scent consumed him so thoroughly.  

A very naked Lydia said, "Felt that, huh? You were the last to be added, but the strongest willed among us. You normally focus for what you want, Boyd. Don't fear this and don't second guess the why's of it. We are pack. We are family. None of that changes after tonight." She then stood up moving over to Jackson with a look that said she wanted the same things Erica did, to be fucked within an inch of her life by every person there.

___________

_Erica_

 

Derek paced back and forth on the altar, barely shifted. A mountain ash circle locked Derek in place at the center of the clearing. There were four large pallets covered in blankets about 20 feet in all four directions from the altar. Lydia and Jackson shared one across from them, to the left was Scott and Allison, finally Isaac and Danny sat comfortably talking on the right pallet. A wolf with a human at three of the four directions surrounding the Alpha. Hers and Boyd's, both of them wolves, were positioned at the northern most point on the sex map. 

She had her thigh painted almost immediately after Derek's, and they ran as a pack nearly half the day, but it did nothing to stop the thrum between her legs. The resulting build up of slick heat drove her wolf bat shit. Erica could only imagine what it had been like for Derek all this time. Hell, this was only a small fraction of what the couple had gone through, and already she 'presented' herself to Boyd five times since they got to the clearing. They weren't even conscious actions. One minute she filed her nails waiting for the party to start, the next she was on all fours, ass in the air. She hadn't been this out of control of her body in a very long time. She didn't like that aspect at all, but at the same time she couldn't deny the total pleasure being brought to her.

In order to regain some semblance of false control, she let her body crouch down, bend low to the ground. Like this, she pretended she wasn't now continuously flaunting her exposed dripping cunt Boyd's direction. _She can fake not desperately needing something inside her, filling her, claiming her._

"Gah!" When the hell would Stiles get there? She sniffed the air for his scent one more time. _At this rate, she'll blow half the pack while Boyd's fucks her till satisfied._  

Erica shook her head and stared toward the center of the clearing. Derek wore nothing, not even his eye protection. His hair always perfectly gelled, seemed to give up the fight for the electric sex current surrounding them. It curled in odd directions, like Stiles had pulled it all night or something. 

She sighed a little mournfully at the thought. Considering it was D-Day, Erica guessed she wouldn't be getting any more sex shows after this main event. She agreed with Isaac, the pack was hot, and in spite of her long lived crush on Stiles, followed by her rebounding instinctual desire for Derek to choose her as mate, this pack bond thing felt amazing. Don't get her wrong, she took time and got over Stiles. And her wolf now preferred Boyd to all others including the Alpha, but this connection felt so damn right. It was comfort and support and love and lust and need and everything good about clinging to someone when nobody wanted to touch her besides her parents, to feel everyone she cared about vibrate in their skin, to ache to be near her. Even the surrounding trees seemed to gather close. Moved in tighter, to cradle and hold.

Growling low in her throat she pawed at the blanket wondering why bother with it. They knew their positions for the arrival and the start. After that all bets were off. Lydia already mentioned while giving the tattoo that partners might change, regroup, and reform. The Duel grew organically with the mated pair. And judging from the lust bleeding off of Stiles and Derek there was no way some form of tantric sex daisy chain wouldn't end up happening tonight.

There!

_Stiles._

Derek always smelled of him. For years they reeked of each other more than anyone else. Erica even got fooled a few times about who was really in the room, but right now, that scent that caught in the wind was the Alpha's mate. Derek sensed him too. Maybe even heard him, judging from the low warning growl that had every beta baring their throats in submission. Then the Alpha stopped moving and simply stood there shifting slowly to his beta form, eyes blood red.

Fuck that was hot. _Not as hot as the idea of Isaac sucking off Boyd, or of Allison rubbing her wet cunt against Lydia's. Or Scott fucking Jackson while Danny force feeds both captains his cock. Then maybe they could all take turns and fuck Erica while Lydia and Allison alternately sit on her face, letting her eat the come of each wolf that fucks into them._

"Holy shit! What the hell was that?" Erica said, her mind clearing of a sex fog long enough to see Stiles charging in the direction of the Alpha.

__________

_Isaac_

 

If Isaac honestly admitted his desires things would never have gotten so confusing for him. 

He knew he had issues. Stuff like being tortured by his father for years never vanished. The damage didn't suddenly integrate into his psyche, and even as a werewolf, he couldn't heal emotional fuckage. The surviving Hales proved that. Maybe that was another reason why Isaac stayed by their side when others turned their backs. They were all just as broken and alone, while at the same time they were strong and together. 

_So it's his fault that while he sits in this clearing he's confused. Strength is his greatest desire. He never wants to feel vulnerable again, never ever be anyone's victim. He flashes his eyes to Danny, naked, human, and calm next to him, both of them vowing to hold on till they witness to the claiming. At the same time in his mind's eye, Danny holds him down while Boyd fucks his mouth. All are wolves and both call him names like "pretty bitch". Their "pretty bitch always with his mouth open, ready for a cock to suck."_

Danny reached out and held Isaac's hand. Isaac hadn't even realized he'd shifted. His claws extended around Danny's fingers like the anchor he never seemed to need. Focus. He had to focus and watch.

Stiles broke past the barricade of mountain ash and leapt a Derek. He latched onto the Alpha like some crazy alien howler monkey and bit Derek's jaw line. It had to have been one of the most unsexy things he had ever seen and yet it was just so hard not thinking about his own face full of come. _Boyd's thick cock pulses out so much come right along with Danny's. "So pretty Isaac. So very pretty as our perfect bitch. You like our come so much, you like it so much, and you want to drink it all down." He's at the back of the Lacrosse bus for an away game and instead of the team there, it's the pack, naked with their cocks and cunts out, waiting for Isaac to be the perfect pretty bitch. To suck each and every one of them clean._  

Danny's hand squeezed Isaac back to reality for the second or third time.

"Fuck." Isaac whispered.

"Yeah. We really need to talk after this." Danny smiled at him, before redirecting attention to Stiles and Derek.

_________

 _Danny_ - 

 

Something went wrong. The fast claiming with Stiles running in, biting Derek on the face, and Derek exposing his neck in defeat wasn't happening, and fuck if Danny could hold out any longer. Visions of Isaac being a submissive little cock slut for the pack, especially toward Boyd and himself kept filling the quiet spaces around him. Not that he minded those concepts. What he had with Isaac was new, and he wanted time to explore it slowly. 

Exploring Isaac slowly.

_Isaac begs on his knees, right next to Jackson and Scott. The three of them look up into Danny's golden glowing eyes waiting for permission to suck at his dick, their spring of life._

"Their spring of Life?" Danny whispered to himself with a grin. Thank god his fantasies were corny as hell. He could break the shimmering sex wall in his brain so long as he kept coming up with stupid crap.

The biggest bit of crap stemmed from Danny accepting the bite. _He fully shifts with his claws sinking into anything and everything around him._

"Let go, people. Derek won't submit until the rest of us approve of his mate." Lydia bellowed out from across the field. An image of Lydia helping him tie and gag Jackson to _a bed fills Danny's mind. Isaac walks on all fours over on a leash and preens at his master's offering._ _"Such a good pretty bitch." Danny pets down Isaac's flank. "I'll let you fuck Jackson open, while Lydia and I watch. And if you breed him well…"_

"Damn it! How can I let go and watch at the same time?" Danny appeared to be the only one able to articulate a response. The rest humped into the air or each other. Great, just great.

"The trans-blah-blah-whatever-the-hell is part of the ritual. Don't fight it. Go into it with the couple. Be part of their dream." Lydia said. The use of terms like 'blah-blah' from Lydia Martin meant she too had difficulty focusing, but her advice made sense. Each now magically smothered in the basest desires of the pack. And sex HAD been the main focus of the happy couple's dreams. 

The Dreams. 

The Sex.  

Danny panted deep from his chest watching Stiles and Derek's frustration build. Derek should have thrown Stiles to the ground and fucked him by now, but the entire purpose of the link wasn't sex. It was possibilities. The pack could talk to each other as much as fuck each other blind. Stiles and Derek were the ones that chose to ignore speech. 

_That's it. Don't hide it anything anymore._

_Danny whispers the one thing he wants most._

_________

 _Allison_  

 

Naked, she watched the playful affection symbolizing closeness as much as confirming it visually for the pack. She briefly recalled studying canine behaviors and knew about muzzle bites. They were two fold actions that meant comfort and hierarchy. Derek's wolf let Stiles bite him on the face without retaliation. That in and of itself was a sign of submission. Sure they could have chosen some other way of Stiles dominating, but somehow Allison knows those other options wouldn't happen tonight. 

No. Things like fucking a werewolf in his wolf form were best left to private quiet moments. _Yeah. She huffs out a breath and looks at Scott prone, naked, waiting for her, always waiting for her so he can show how much he loves her._ _She strokes the thick cock strapped between her legs. This time she can show him how much she cares. She opens him and fills him slowly, getting lost in their own little world of Shakespearean forever love, blocking out all the rest, and living only for each other. She keeps pushing into him as he shifts. It's her that will be the constant between both man and wolf. She is the one to ground him, provide for him. Love him completely with fists full of fur._  

_Danny painfully whispers in her mind. "I want to be pack. I want to be wolf."_

_The echo of you are pack follows him, and Danny's  pain obliterates as soon as the pack knows it's there. Like converging on an open wound and by your very existence being able to will the injury away._

_Images of Scott, Jackson and Isaac being fucked so thoroughly Allison wants to weep for the pleasures as well as the come that drips from each stretched hole. The vision ilea's to another pulse of pain. It's at the edges of the pack but it's pulling them all apart. It echoes of uncertainty, the feeling of never belonging, never fitting in the right ways; there's sex at the core of this gathering, but so much unresolved pain around it's edges. The loudest echo is now from Erica. She wants touch, simple caresses of affection. The pack holds her tight and breaks down in tears as they all apparently need a damn hug._

_Piled together fingers touch places. Skin, so much skin. Contact with all. Inside and out._

_Boyd needs to matter. He also needs to be first in someone's eyes. Erica claims the right without hesitation, to be the one who sees him most, while all the others wish to see him often. Erica is pregnant and Boyd rubs her stomach as they sleep, the pack curled around them._

_Lydia doesn't want to be afraid of everything anymore. She runs wild in the forest with wolves at her command. They guard her, defend her and they worship her body at night, marking her so that others will never dare touch her._

_Jackson wants to be a real live boy after so many years living as a wooden puppet. Danny, Lydia and Boyd help him. They tie him down, and with their bare hands and claws they take turns proving his existence._

_With every passing spoken confession, the frayed edges solidify and grow stronger. The pack grows nearer. Tighter._

_Isaac licks around Scott's open hole._

_Derek transforms to a wolf and the wolf howls._

_Allison is too scared to admit what she wants. Even like this, even at a moment of utter acceptance and pack, she knows she doesn't have the right._

_________ 

_Scott_

 

_Scott's afraid of losing things like everyone else is. He thinks they all could walk away but he has faith they will be at his side. After the years of fighting, this is trust. He sees that now with every spoken wish. "We'd never leave you" floods back to him better than a warm pile of fresh laundry, and nothing beats fresh laundry. He's never felt anything like it. There's all this physical stuff like pushing into Allison, or her pushing into him, but then there's all this painful stuff that keeps on vanishing every time one of the pack speaks._

_It's amazing._

_It's pack._

_All the bad things swirl away till there's nothing left but Isaac's soft licks, Boyd holding him close, Allison protecting him and his heart. His Allison. His pack._

_Erica notices it first. The smudge that isn't going away. "What's wrong?" she vocalizes._

_The others like Scott trace the web of feelings till it's obviously pointing in one direction._

_Allison speaks so quietly Scott's wolf, in a dream where everything was meant to be heard, has trouble picking up the sound. "I don't deserve forgiveness. I and my family have taken… I don't deserve to be here."_

_It's like when he and Stiles used to play telephone. Two cans and a string are all kids need to keep themselves entertained, and he feels this whole night is a giant game of emotional telephone. No time is that more evident than when the woman he loves confesses her need to be deserving of forgiveness._

_"Everyone here hurts, everyone here heals." Lydia says while she pets Jackson._

_At the very center of it all is Stiles and Derek. They haven't spoken in the minutes since this began, but the umbrella of threads that connect the pack come from them, circle all, and at that moment they contract, forcing memories of things done not so long ago._

Scott betrayed Derek and fought him when the Alpha was at his lowest. Lydia manipulated and played games worse than Peter. Isaac let out all of his anger on everyone around him as soon as he had power. Jackson killed and bullied his way into the pack as a giant lizard then fled. Danny sided against them for love. Boyd and Erica abandoned the pack when they were scared. Allison when faced with her mother's death attacked that which she had been trained to kill.

All was forgiven. _All is forgiven. "We are pack." Stiles and Derek say._

_________

_Derek_

 

Pacing was hard. Waiting was hard. 

When Lydia put that mark on him he could hear Stiles' mind. It twitched in unsteady rhythms that did nothing to stop him from wanting to run across town and fuck his mate blind. Ironically, temporary blindness happened with really good orgasms. They wouldn't have needed the blindfolds if they could fuck each other. He knew that now that he and Stiles were finally together. And didn't that getting together part suck. Peter and Deaton plotted this out, recognized his mate before Derek had. Derek was the Alpha. Shouldn't he have known? He thought he had gotten better with all of this. He knew he had, but something so basic and instinctual he hadn't even recognized until the dreams. And the dreams. Sex talks with mom made him cringe. He never wanted to know about Mating or the Duel. He wasn't ready and then he didn't have the opportunity to learn it. How embarrassingly pathetic it was that he had to have mating explained to him when he was years away from thirty.

Shedding what was left of his clothes, he took off for the trees and ran. Running cleared his mind when things got to be too much. There was a lot of running in recent weeks. He could track something other than Stiles, and like now, the pack could run with him over the crunch of leaves. _It's how he's lived for so long. Being the wolf breaks things down to basic survival. Territory, pack, eating, sleeping, and now finding a mate, they are what matter._

 _The occasional twig or rock presses into the soles of his feet, but it never hurts. The forest never hurts the predators_. _Smells blur with sight, textures blend into sounds and everything has a taste, but the color is missing from all of it except Stiles. His tongue can taste him on the wind moving finally closer. He needs Stiles. The scent of him is in two directions, but one, he knows will be the place where he will claim him. Derek howls and runs for the clearing._

_Pack is there. Pack is with him. He breathes in deep their arousal and listens to their heartbeats. Good. He also feels their worries. He always does his best to push the pain away, but somehow it's never enough. It may help, and the worry may fade, but it doesn't leave._

_There's bedding from Stiles at the center. Derek bounces on it with the balls of his feet then falls to all fours and puts his nose into it. Maybe two hours ago Stiles slept on the grey sheets. It's thick with his sweat and Derek needs to rut against the material. He lowers himself down further from hands to elbows and pushes his arching body against the soft cotton, dragging his hard cock in through all the places that touched Stiles' skin._

_His activities are why he doesn't notice a person, pack, completing the circle of ash around him. He growls at her, even though part of him knows it's what he asked her to do. He's trapped before his pack. It's a sign of trust to them that he can do this, but the wolf doesn't like the dangerous implications. Like this, Derek can't protect them. He can't defend his mate. He gets to his feet and bares his teeth with his displeasure._

_Pacing is hard. Waiting is hard. Thoughts are harder to process and at the same time he's just so singularly focused that it's really impossible for him to care about anything but Stiles. He's caged with the adrenaline of almost a full month of barely repressed sexual desire. It's eating at him. He's not feral. Stiles is there in his mind, soothing Derek enough to not howl indiscriminately until his arrival, but the longing deep within him is making it difficult not to call out in the only way his body understands._  

_Deaton walks up slowly and lights candles that are just outside of the ash barrier. Derek snarls in his direction. Not because he sees the man as a threat, but because he can smell Stiles on him. He wants Stiles. He wants to spread him open and mount him, mark him and claim him. Stiles belongs with him. He takes a deep breath through his mouth to see if he can taste him in the air. He's close. Derek turns his head a little to the east. There. The smell of Stiles is stronger. It's the taste of the herbal lemony soap he likes. He's running to meet him. He can hear feet crunching and the curses as a few stray branches break skin. Stiles is not a predator, but he is mate. He is strong and he will be on his knees before Derek very soon._

_Derek smiles at the idea of it. Stiles on his knees. Sucking him, teasing him. Derek being able to see it for himself, witness the love in Stiles eyes. They haven't seen each other since this started. They haven't been able to look except in dreams. And now Derek would see him. Derek howls into the rising night fall. His claws extend, fangs lengthen. So close._

He's here. He's beautiful. 

_Stiles, his mate, bounds up to him charging, challenging. Derek growls at his strength. Proud to have him. No fear in his scent or position. No injury to exploit. No weakness except in his too sudden movements._

He's Perfect.

_His mate jumps at him and bites in a way only his mother or an Alpha would. Derek is Alpha now and growls his warning. It's not a game to be played as if they were pups. His mate bites again with more force and Derek flashes his eyes red extending his claws further. It's his mate so he will let it pass once more but only just. The pack is watching. They can see it. Do they accept his mate? Do they love him the way Derek does? At first there's too much noise from pack to understand how they feel, then it quiets to a solid baseline beat of pack. It's stable like it's never been before and all Derek can do is grin wide barring his throat to the man that helped make it possible, Stiles - his mate._

Stiles nibbled at his jaw once more. Then kissed down his neck. Derek responded by growling out a noise he's never made before. It was deeper and manic in odd ways like Stiles or the world had taken too damn long in getting to this point and finally the wolf had had enough. Derek smiled internally and maybe a little on the outside too because Stiles smiled back at him. God how he had missed that smile, the way those full lips thinned and curled at the edges. It always played with Derek's heart when he caught sight of it and he never knew if Stiles was thinking up a new inventive ways to get into trouble, horny, or maybe just passing gas. After being linked with him, Derek now understood it was usually all three.

With the haze temporarily lessened Derek took a step back to admire the intricate rope work done on his mate. He knew he only had the briefest of moments for clarity. It was already fading so fast from him. The urge to take pounded as warning drums of an approaching army, but he wanted to say this out loud and while looking Stiles in the eyes beforehand. 

"I love you." 

Stiles panted out with an obvious struggle to find words. "I love you too." His eyes shimmered maybe as much as Derek's.

"Mine." Derek said in hope for their future as much as just a simple statement of fact.

_Stiles grabs the back of Derek's neck and just before kissing him, growls out. "Mine."_

_Thought gets hard after that. Derek doesn't need to think much anyway. It's instinct now. The increase in heart rate, the tug of more blood flowing to his cock. Derek breathes deep of Stiles' scent. Others have touched him. That won't do. Derek shifts the weight of his boy so he's further up in his arms. Both hands cup and part his ass as much as hoist Stiles upward. Good. Derek licks at his boy's neck and chest. He licks all around the binding ropes that stretch in waving patterns over shoulders and across nipples. His boy, his mate, squirms at the attention. "Hold Still." Derek warns with a thought. Stiles does, even though Derek's pretty sure his mate didn't hear that demand. It's the first time tonight that it happens, and Derek pays it no mind. So much perfect skin to touch and lick before Stiles smells right again. He doesn't have time to question._

_Stiles' legs are wrapped high around his waist. One of his feet digs its heel against the cleft of Derek's ass every time they pump their bodies together. The near melodic hip motion started as soon as their skin made contact, and unlike the flailing from moments before, Derek thinks this should never really stop._

_Knowing Stiles can support his own weight, Derek lets his hands roam up Stiles' thighs, down his back, over his arms, through his hair. His mate. His boy. His Stiles. "Mine" Derek growls again, rubbing his cock up along the sweat damp balls of what belongs to him._

_Derek impatiently lowers them both to the sheet. He's not being rough, but the wolf doesn't do gentle in these conditions. Stiles lets out an "oomph" as the air rushes out of him. He's pinned between the ground and Derek. The tracing of all those places with his tongue begins again, especially the places with the strongest of Stiles' scent. His neck, he's already done and plans on attacking its pale expanse daily. The next spot, the one he had trouble reaching with Stiles in the air, was under his arm. The sweat gathered there between the last time Stiles showered, maybe a few hours ago, and now was all related to the need to mate with Derek. Every last impulse to fuck and be fucked seemed to be nestled there and Derek damn well needed to sniff and lick at it. Unlike the soles of Stiles feet that had bits of the forest floor blended into it, or even Stiles cock/ass, that had been prepared so lovingly, this hidden fold of skin is purely Stiles. Not even the heady scent of bacteria had the chance to grow and over power that which is his mate._

_Derek predatorily licks at Stiles' chest making a not so lazy path to his boy's arm. Stiles obliges and lifts his arm over his head exposing the soft sweet skin. Derek nuzzles into it enjoying the catnip like effect. The first discomforting hit of the shift takes him while he's blissed out on Stiles pheromones. He can feel the knotting in his spine and the crunch of his bones resetting. The pads of his fingers thicken so the texture of Stiles skin beneath them is dulled. On the opposite side of the spectrum, the scent of his mate is magnified a hundred fold almost instantly and he has to have him._

_Before he loses the ability to grip with an opposable thumb, he reaches down between Stiles' legs and grips the base of the last item he asked for. It's smooth and wet from more than sweat, and he gives the plug a turn. Derek satisfies himself with the moan Stiles gives back. It’s a passing placation though, because what he needs is to pull that thing out of him and turn Stiles over before shifting completely._

_Stiles bucks his hips riding the crystal stone with a few more desperate thrusts then gasps in near orgasmic shock at its sudden loss. While his mate's still recovering from the removal, Derek less than carefully flips him over. Ass up, cock down, Stiles looks as he should in this moment. Ready, waiting, wanton. His hole is spread open and Derek can't help but lick at it as his snout elongates. A mouth full of Stiles helps his shift. It doesn't hurt as much. Instead it pulls his body like warm molding clay. The world swirls black and white for moments around him and then his tongue lolls out of his mouth, eyes refocusing on what's before him. Mate. Breed. Derek raises up, his paws hooking around the hips of his boy. He thrusts forward missing the first time and the second. He whines. A hand guides him in. So tight, so wet. Faster. Must breed, must claim. Harder. More. Little grunts come from his boy. Pleased sounds. More. Still so tight. Derek needs to make room for the pups. Needs to open him. Claim him. Mark him with come and more. Fill his hole with all of it. Push him open with every thrust. Faster. Derek growls low from his chest, preening at how good his mate takes his cock. The pack sees it. The pack watches and knows how good Stiles is, how perfect they are together._

_Derek pushes as deep as he can humping into a brutal pace, then he feels it. There's a tug of attraction that happens when humans are aroused, a tingling sensation that runs directly from the brain to the erogenous reproductive zones. It makes them hard and wet, ready to breed. For werewolves, or wolves in general, there's something more. Something Derek never knew about. The tug is there, but so is the expanding permanence of his cock. Like it's whole purpose is to fill Stiles. To grow and stretch him, breed him. It's a weight and it's thickening like it never had before, but in a way that feels so much more natural than the endorphin based 'tug'. It's at the base of his cock and moving forward, pushing and expanding its way into Stiles. And Stiles is keening back onto it. He's taking it. Loving it, with sweat pouring down his spine and his legs trembling to stay up._

_Derek howls as he starts to come. His hips still and he can feel his boy's hole squeeze around the knot buried just inside._

_________

_Stiles._

 

Holy Good Fuck! It was only a tiny fraction of the expletives his brain supplied while still being mounted and knotted by what was essentially his wolfy husband. The dreamy Duel fog cleared enough for him to recap in his mind the number of times he came. He counted 2 and a half. The dry shiver that ran through him at seeing Derek for the first time in nearly a month also must added to his loose limbed sex stupor. 

The wolf attached to him had no plans of letting go, and both took pleasure from the quiet little licks just starting at the back of Stiles neck. "I think I'm sex drunk. Or maybe sex hungover." He felt all wobbly like when he had excessive amounts of JD, speech took too long to get from his brain to his mouth. By the time he said something about pink shoe laces he was already thinking of the double entendres of fishing. 'Tackle boxes' indeed!

"You gonna to break it now?" Stiles asked, sated and relaxed in a way he's only achieved with prescribed heavy dose pharmaceuticals.  

Derek kept up his caring licks and Stiles hummed in appreciation. They talked about when they would ween the pack from the added dream catcher bond. One snap of the ropes around Stiles and the magic would slowly fade. Stiles looked around without moving much. Not that he had options for movement with his current position of being knotted _. Knotted!?_ Yeah… Judging from the brief surprised feeling from Derek, the Alpha didn't get to that chapter in the "My Body, My Werewolf." course. Anyway, Yeah. The pack. They were…Well, there were 4 empty pallets all around Stiles and Derek. Stiles didn't even remember seeing them as he came into the clearing. He assumed the pack had been on the pallets at the start of the evening as planned. Now they all were piled naked a few yards to his left. 

Erica waved at him from beneath Lydia and Boyd, and from the tangle of limbs, it was hard to tell what exactly happened, but even Stiles could smell the sex. It wasn't just from the floor show he and Derek put on. Heck no. Erica, Allison and Isaac had a small nature center in their hair, like they were dragged or fucked over to the others along the forest floor. Scott had red mouth marks all over his skin as if the pack took turns biting him and watching him heal. 

Soft little grunts finally got paid attention to. Stiles couldn't see the face, but he could see the tell tale sign of a foot moving in a distinct rhythm a few inches behind and above Lydia's perfectly quaffed hair. The noises matched the foot's movement. _Holy shit._ Stiles closed his eyes. He needed to reset his internal memory stick. This needed to be in high definition so when he finally momentarily got bored of looking at Derek's exceptionally fine ass in 40 or 50 years (senility could happen), he could recall this scene in perfect clarity.

Stiles reopened his eyes and saw Jackson's foot bobbing mid-air to the thrusts of Danny. Isaac had his mouth around Jackson's cock. The whimpering grunts came from Jackson. Scott's mouth was newly attached to Isaac's ass and he was shifting. Allison stood over Scott straddling him like he was a horse and grinding her hips in satisfaction at the friction against her cunt. And she was encouraging Scott to lick deeper. "Get everything Boyd and Danny left in there." Erica, who smiled and waved before, laid flat on her back towards to front of the pile. Lydia lowered herself down over her so her breasts were in Erica's face, and the werewolf didn't pause before latching on and spreading Lydia's ass cheeks with barely contained clawed hands. Boyd had his fingers deep inside both women and looked like he was torn as to which one to fuck first and in which holes. The man obviously wished he could somehow sprout three additional cocks and fuck everything at the same time.

Stiles held the image of Boyd with four cocks for a second. Derek's cock felt as big as four of them right now. Derek didn't need multiples. He was fuzzy and warm and held on to Stiles in perfect ways. Stiles closed his eyes again savoring the feel of Derek inside him, still licking him. 

"Mmmmm" Stiles pleasantly hummed again. His ass was sore, tightly stretched. If he moved too much he was pretty sure his insides might end up on the outside. None of that changed how good it felt to have this massive wolf pulse shot after shot of hot come deep inside him. He wanted Derek's knot in him all night, and would work hard to make sure it happened. The pack could have their UST obliteration session, he could feel the improved bond between them, but Stiles had something else entirely. Something that wasn't just family getting past the mystery so they didn't need, or in some cases want, to do it again. What Stiles and Derek shared at this very second was eternal.

"Okay, Big Guy. How many ways do you want to mark me in front of the pack?" Stiles teased.

 

 

 

Tiny Epilogue:

 

Stiles stares up at the morning sky. The thrum of his tattoos magic has faded completely with the full moon. The ropes are gone, so the betas aren't echoing anymore, but neither is the wolf still curled into his side. The odd connection that drew them together after the dreaming started is gone, replacing it is something tangible. Solid and true. The mental I-know-what-you-feel is gone too. He'll have to remember what he's learned about the wolf being a dichotomy of action vs. emotions. He'll need patience and understanding, but so will Derek. He'll have to put up with Stiles' moods and affection-starved ways. 

They also have a pack to look out for. It's a true pack now, curled up together in friendship, family and love. A few may start more complex relationships, but Stiles knows most won't. In fact, he's pretty sure the next werewolf mating will be much more Hale-traditionalist. Less orgy and more symbolic. Maybe if he and Derek weren't as repressed about how they felt, they could have had a quiet ceremony instead of their explosive one, but then again, he wouldn't trade what happened for anything. It's a precious gift that he'll always treasure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A complete list of kinks mentioned or done in this chapter: Pegging, biting, leashing, gang bangs, orgy, scissoring, internal shame issues, fingering, knotting, arm pit licking, rimming and more rimming, cum eating. Oral sex

**Author's Note:**

> Too pervy, not pervy enough? First post to Ao3, I figured I should inquire. 
> 
> But then again, can something really be too pervy? hmmmm. Enquiring minds.


End file.
